


Saudade

by notchason



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: <- actually it is more like an attempt of self harm but it doesnt actually happen, Aftermath of Violence, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Drugs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Graphic descriptions of violence, I will add tags as I go, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Transphobia, Mentions of Suicide, Misgendering, Multi, Mutual Pining, Mutually Unrequited, PLEASE READ THE NEWEST TAGS, Partying, Pining, Rave, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Trans Alexander Hamilton, Transphobia, lovers to strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-11-18 17:36:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11295468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notchason/pseuds/notchason
Summary: When Alex Hamilton got adopted by a couple of rich New Yorkers, he thought that he left all of his past life behind. He lived in anguish for so long, and now was his chance to to be who he is - a man. Yes, he was transgender, and he knew it from a very young age, but circumstances didn't allow him to get out of the closet.Now, he's in college, living a new life... until, he realized, his past caught up with him. A past that can be summarized in two words - Thomas Jefferson.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I really love trans!Alex AU, but for some reason, I have never thought about writing one? Crazy, I know. So here it is! The beginnings of a new, likely complicated (as I always do) story. I'd just say, buckle up, get ready for fluff, angst, and all that good stuff.
> 
> Also - keep in mind, this is _just the prologue to the story _meaning that the chapters will be much, _much _longer than this.____

“ _So...” Thomas drawled, “how’d you like the dinner?”_

_The girl who walked next to him smiled shyly, looking up to meet his gaze. Her eyes were sparkling, and she looked happy, much to Thomas’ satisfaction. She bit her bottom lip, casting her gaze forwards again, eyes darting through the dark as the pair walked along the pavement. “It was very nice”, she said, her voice sounding as if she was in deep thought, though she didn’t say anything else. Thomas brightened up like a Christmas tree. They walked for a little longer until the girl finally slowed down her hurried step, “This is my house.”_

_Thomas nodded. They stood in front of the house for a few more moments, silence enveloping them, though it wasn’t of the awkward kind. “Alexis -”, he begun. The girl winced at the mention of her name, but she still confidently looked up at him. He swallowed a lump and continued, his voice if a little shaky “- would you maybe like to go out… again?”_

_She visibly stilled, but then a coy simper came back, decorating her delicate features. With one quick step, she closed the distance between the two of them, tipping her head up and having to stand on her toes as she cupped his face with her hand, dragging him down gently for a kiss. It took Thomas by surprise, but he kissed back, his lips stiff at first but softened against her own. His hands found their way around her waist, slightly pulling her closer. His fingers found their way to her hair, threading lightly through the soft, silky strands. The kiss wasn’t exceptionally heated, at last, they were both only children – Thomas was sixteen, while Alexis was fifteen._

_As they split, she rested her forehead against his, the two remaining out of breath. Mostly, it was because of the excitement. Their heartbeats were rapid, his own heart hammering in his chest. The kiss wasn’t long, and certainly wasn’t like something you would see in the movies. But there was something enticing in its own way about it, just like your first kiss should be._

_Without as much as a goodbye, Alexis ambled away through the fence, towards the front door of the house. The doors were red, and the whole house did have this rustic kind of feel to it; stone facade, low roof, 18 th century-looking lanterns in front, casting warm, yellow light. The door opened, and she walked in. Thomas stood on the street for a moment. The person that had let her was a man in his 30s maybe, his hair dark, though Thomas couldn’t tell in the night whether it was brown or black, but he couldn’t mistaken the man’s arctic blue gaze, striking on its own, as the man looked at him. At that moment, Thomas realized that he might have looked a little fishy himself; dark hoodie and sweats on, hands stuck in his pockets as he stares lovingly at (what appears to be) the man’s daughter. He bowed his head and walked away in the direction they came from, towards his own home._

_He arrived home around 10:38 p.m. His parents were already asleep, but his older sister Elizabeth wasn’t. Of course she would force herself to remain awake, so she could inquire him about his ‘date’, although he continuously claimed it wasn’t one. She was in the kitchen, sipping what looked to be whiskey, as she casually sat on the bar stool at the counter, scribbling something in a notebook of sorts. Thomas made his presence known by clearing his throat. She beamed up at him, “So how was it? Did you have fun?” pause, “did you kiss?” she bombarded him with questions. Thomas chuckled, nodding shyly. She all but squealed. He knew that she was about to make him retell every single detail, as she always does with Thomas’ personal affairs. Before she could pose another question, Thomas interrupted her, “Hey, listen, Liz – I’m tired. Can I tell you everything in the morning?” He looked at her with pleading eyes. Elizabeth’s gaze softened, “Of course, Tommy. You just go to sleep, yeah?” He nodded and turned around, finding his way through the maze of hallways in Monticello. He reached his bedroom and collapsed rather ungracefully on the bed, took his phone out and couldn’t resist sending a text (call him clingy, whatever)._

‘ _We’re on for the movies on Tuesday still? xx’ and maybe it was a stupid thing to text because he has already confirmed with her, James and Dolley earlier today. He grinned to himself, like the lovesick teenager he was, as his phone buzzed with the text of ‘Alexis <3’_

‘ _Of course we are :)’_

‘ _Good night, Alexis xx’_

‘ _Night xx’_

_*~*_

_Tuesday came by pretty quick. Thomas was waiting for this since Friday. He stood in front of his full length mirror for at least an hour, trying on and discarding clothes. He opted on a dark purple button up, a black tie and black slacks. He thought he looked pretty decent, and that was confirmed later by his family. His mother giggled with delight, Liz only watched him knowingly and little Peter only observed him from his crib in the sitting room, completely oblivious as to what was going on. Thomas waited for James to pick him up, since he already had his restricted driver’s license. Dolly was with them in the car, driving shotgun. She looked lovely, her porcelain skin beautifully contrasting her red polkadot dress, strawberry blonde hair falling on her shoulders. Thomas couldn’t help but notice with how much adoration did the pair look at each other; at last, they were together for two years already, and if Thomas was not mistaken, their anniversary is coming up in a month or so. They looked sickeningly cute together, Dolley’s hand resting on James’._

_After maybe ten minutes of driving in almost silence, they arrived to Alexis’ house. She was already outside, waiting for them. Thomas couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked; she wore a light green button up, sleeves rolled up to the crease of her elbow, and faded jeans. She smiled as her eyes locked with Thomas’ and she ran towards the car. She entered in the back seat, and even though there was plenty of space, she managed to push herself into Thomas side, her palm open and resting on Thomas’ tight, until the he managed to gather the courage to slip his hand into hers. She let out a small sigh of satisfaction and Thomas smiled to himself._

_The ride wasn’t spent in silence, Alexis being a very talkative person. She had strong opinions that, Thomas found, directly opposed his own. Not by that much, but still managed to make Thomas feel the need to add his own two cents into the conversation. Their argument resulted in Alexis shifting so that she faced Thomas. She was frowning, waving her hands around, looking as if she was pouring her heart and soul into her words, but Thomas just looked at her with amused glint in his eyes. His eyes were half-lidded, a small smile resting on his lips. He looked entranced. It took Alexis some time to realize that Thomas gave up arguing. Her expression softened, lips curving in a shy smile. She muttered ‘sorry’ but Thomas only tugged on her arm, Alexis taking it as a hint to nestle back next to Thomas. James let out a roar of laughter and commented how ridiculous they were, but it only made the pair in the back seat snicker._

_*~*_

_In the cinema, the story was much the same as in the car – there were three movies to chose from: Starship Troopers, Jurassic Park and The Titanic. Alexis wanted to watch Jurassic Park, Thomas wanted Starship Troopers and Dolley, naturally, wanted The Titanic. She claimed that her parents have watched it, and that it was really, really good. However, Alexis countered that she isn’t about to watch some ‘tear-inducing, pathetic excuse of a movie and really, we are supposed to be having fun, not crying’. It was up to James and (Thomas will never forgive him) his friend stood with Alexis. They ended up watching Jurassic Park._

_The movie was average at best, Thomas thought, but Alexis seemed really into it, practically sitting on the edge of her seat, wide-eyed and carefully watching the scenes unfold; great green hills, futuristic labs, and such. However, her focus was disturbed the moment Thomas ‘casually’ rested his arm across the back of her seat. She was wary, he could tell it from her body language. But after some time, she was at ease again, leaning against Thomas’ shoulder and letting the older boy rest his cheek on her head. They kissed during the movie – a lot of kissing was going on, actually. Not just them, but James and Dolley weren’t missing in action, as well as two more couples that sat few rows below them. Alexis almost climbed up in his lap, just going at it. Thomas was forced to laugh, making her blush and pout. He then proceeded to comment that she looks cute while pouting, making her jokingly smack him in the shoulder. It was a surprisingly hard punch for a person that small, actually, Thomas thought._

_*~*_

_After the movie was over, Alexis insisted that Thomas stays over at her house for the night, since nobody would be home. Thomas wasn’t sure about how his parents would feel about it, so he refused the offer._

“ _But come on, Tommy!” she wailed jokingly, a smirk playing on her lips as she made puppy eyes._

“ _Y’know I can’t, Alexis. I have to be home. We have school tomorrow, besides.” He sighed, pulling her closer by the belt loops on her pants. Their chests collided, and Thomas tenderly pressed a kiss to her lips, holding her chin up with the tips of her fingers._

“ _Yeah, yeah, okay”, she swallowed, looking downwards. Thomas felt that she was scared about something, or nervous, all of a sudden. “Hey, Thomas?”_

“ _Hm, darlin’?”_

“ _Can – can you call me ‘Alex’? Maybe?” She said quickly, Thomas barely able to understand the words._

“ _Of course I can, doll,”_ he smiled, “if you wanted that before, you could have told me a month ago, you know? I’d do anything for you.”

_Alex was blushing again, burying her head in Thomas’ chest, “Thanks, Tom.” Thomas stroked her back in steady movements, swinging on his feet a little._

“ _I have to go now. Alex.”_

“ _I – yeah, okay, you just go.” She watched him as he strolled down the street. Thomas’ house was maybe twenty to twenty-five minutes away on foot, and a little walk never killed nobody._ He stuck his hands into his pockets, since it was getting chilly. He grinned to himself, deep in thought of how wonderful tonight was, and that they should definitely repeat it.

_*~*_

_That day was the last he ever heard of Alex._

_She didn’t come to school the other day. It was obvious that teachers knew something the pupils didn’t, since they haven’t even noted her absence. Thomas texted her during lunch break, but when he took a look at his phone in the evening, there was no response._

_She didn’t come to school the day after that. It was obvious that something happened. Alex still wasn’t answering Thomas’ texts nor his calls. He was worried sick._

_The third day, he changed the route he took from school to his home, deciding to check up on Alex’s house. He would be totally fine if she didn’t want to talk to him anymore, or didn’t want to be with him, or keep seeing him – actually, he would be far from fine, but he would accept it. But three days ago, it sure as hell didn’t see like she wants to be away from him._

_His mouth went slack when he found himself across the street from her house and his eyes caught the sight of yellow police tape. There were police vehicles, from vans to cars to motorcycles. There was no ambulance truck, so that was good… right? But then again, it’s been three days. If they had to take a body away -_

_Lord forgive him, what was he thinking?_

_Nothing could have happened to Alex, he wouldn’t allow it. He just -_

_Fuck._

_He crossed the street, not knowing what he will do once he gets there. When a police officer saw him, he walked up to him in few long strides, blocking him from going any further. “This is a possible crime scene, boy, what do you want?”_

“ _I just -”_

“ _Please, turn around and go back where you came from. I wouldn’t want to report you for disturbing the law,” the man ached his eyebrow. Thomas instantly disliked him. However, he did do as he was told, and with fists firmly holding onto his backpack straps, he marched away towards his house._

_When he reached Monticello, he went to look for his mother or father, or anyone, who would know what has happened. As expected, his parents were in the kitchen, sitting at the dinner table in silence. Something was not right here. His parents were very talkative, especially with each other, chatting about all the latest news and gossip. “Mom? Dad?”_

“ _Thomas – hi,” his mother’s voice was weak. She sounded defeated, no matter how hard she tried to force on a smile._

“ _What is going on? Where’s Alexis? Why are cops in front of her house?” The questions came one following the other with no pause in between, and after the third one, he just babbled nonsense, not registering the tears that have gathered in the corners of his eyes._ His father got up, put his hands on his shoulders and directed him towards a stool.

“ _Thomas… Alexis’ cousin – her guardian – committed suicide three nights ago. She is being transferred to foster care. She has already left Virginia.”_

“ _No. You’re lying.” Thomas dismissed her mother’s explanation, withdrew his hand from the table when he saw that she wanted to hold it. He bit his lip, not even realizing how hard until he drew blood, the metallic-copper taste making him gag. He got up from his seat and ran up to his room, slamming the door closed and locking them. He was breathing heavily, his back against the door, until he felt himself sliding down against the wooden surface._

_He should have stayed with her._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas gets drunk, Thomas gets hungover, Thomas reminisces, Thomas gets lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas POV because I am weak.

Thomas sat casually on the floor of his dorm, his back against the bed frame and legs propped up on James’ lap, as they played some twisted, drunken version of ‘truth or dare’. Next to them, or across them, sat James Monroe, Thomas Conway, Samuel Seabury, Charles Lee and James Reynolds. Jemmy probably was the only one on the sober side for the night, watching over them with a bored expression. It was obvious that the only thought in his head was ‘I didn’t sign up for this, I didn’t get into college to be a babysitter to 20something year olds.’

Monroe was shouting something incoherent, attempting to have a fight with Seabury, but everything he said was slurred and nobody could understand a thing. Still, Conway laughed and finally, so did Thomas. The sight was funny on its own.

There wasn’t a good reason why they were wasted over their asses on a Thursday night. Apparently it was Seabury’s birthday or something, but that ‘party’ should have stayed in his dorm. The original idea (and what he told James, and Thomas would later find out) was that he would spend a calm, civilized evening with his closest friends. And everything went more or less according to plan, until Monroe and Reynolds barged in with bottles of wine, already tipsy, and started shouting. It didn’t take Seabury long to be persuaded.

And of-fucking-course, the ginger was a lightweight. He was gone after a few chugs. Somehow the four of them ended up at Thomas’, having picked up Conway on their way. And who was Thomas to say no to free alcohol?

Their doors were swung open, and not only could they see by-passers, but they would also yell their comments out loud, which wasn’t very nice to hear – considering the obvious (“Hey Sarah, nice shirt! Although 70s called, they want their fashion sense back!” the girl, Sarah, blushed with embarrassment and sped up her pace, trying to block out their roaring laughter).

Thomas got up and was heading towards the bathrooms, when he saw a group of three certain people walking down the hall. He smirked. Lafayette, Mulligan and Hamilton.

The three (plus John Laurens, a medical student) were a peculiar group. The only normal one, if you’d ask Thomas, was Lafayette, an immigrant from France. Mulligan was way too loud and acted on impulse, as if taking the duty of a mother hen and having to protect the three others, as if they were helpless. Then there was Hamilton, the arrogant, loud-mouthed Caribbean immigrant, orphan and whore’s son. He was truly something special; very tiny yet fierce, opinionated and always wanted to add his two cents to any debate or conversation he was in. Although, the most unusual thing about him was his voice; while it was deep and could not be mistaken for a girl, it often cracked, as if he was a 13 year-old boy in puberty. Which was odd, since he was 20 years old. With that, he had an unusual accent, and Thomas guessed it was because of the many places he lived in. He could swear there was a southern drawl on a few words he heard him speak in class, and he would (although not as often) say things like ‘y’all’.

Despite being the most abrasive person Thomas has ever had the ‘honor’ of meeting, he was very private. He did not speak about his personal life often, and he would not let anybody in. Believe it or not, Thomas actually considered befriending him when the man got into college, because he could recognize their similarities, and how powerful they would be if they ‘united’. They had some, mostly minor, disagreements; something Thomas could definitely overlook, yet the immigrant seemed adamant on keeping him on a safe distance as an ‘enemy’. Thomas could only imagine why, but with constant jabs made at him, not only in their free times but also in class, he felt the need to resort to fighting fire with fire. As an argument between the two of them started, it would never be long until they started spewing insults – they would often be subtly implied or echoed back with their words, but the longer it lasted, the more obvious they were (“Listen here, _asshole_ , you know damn well why _this and that_ wasn’t the solution, and _such and such_ could have made better choices, weren’t it for…-) So yeah. Thomas would never say he considered Hamilton his nemesis, but the smaller man insisted on it, so be behaved accordingly.

He leaned against the door frame, temporarily having to stabilize himself to stay on his feet. He watched Hamilton as they passed by. The small man looked up at him and frowned, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Thomas smugly sniggered at him, making Hamilton’s (unusually delicate) facial features morph into some kind of grimace. It entertained Thomas endlessly, how with little efforts he can put Hamilton in a bad mood. His body then reminded him why he got up initially, so he walked out of the room and turned right, towards the bathrooms. He cursed under his breath why couldn’t they just implement the bathrooms in each dorm, instead of making them all share one large. It wasn’t just disgusting, it was also impractical. It was beyond (sober) Thomas why would anyone consider this a remotely good idea.

He drunkenly staggered to it and went over to the sinks to wash his face. He held his hands together, letting water gather in them, as if in a bowl, and then he brought it to his face. It was refreshing, and he repeated the process once or twice again before wiping his face and walking over to the urinals.

He heard the door open, and somebody walk in. It didn’t particularly concern him, until he heard a very familiar “fuckin’ shit”, and he glanced over his back. It was Hamilton, and upon seeing him, the man shuffled into one of the bathroom stalls. Well, that was odd. Then again, what would he expect from such a peculiar human. Upon finishing his business, he went back to his room, not without tripping once or twice (or six times). The doors were closed and he knocked. James opened them, let him in, explained that everybody left, though Thomas couldn’t make himself listen. He just wanted to sleep. So he collapsed onto the bed, and felt James pull the purple duvet over him. He was a lucky person who did not deserve a friend like this.

*~*

He woke up hungover, much like expected. James only laughed at him, but pointed out that he prepared aspirin and orange juice on his nightstand. Thomas thanked him quickly, before consuming both. James had early lessons, his first class being at ungodly 8 a.m. – literature with Mr. George King. The guy was an ass, that was widely known among the students. Thomas should be congratulating James for having the strength to wake up early and spend an hour and a half in a closed space with that prissy bitch.

Luckily, Thomas’ classes begun at 2 p.m., which was a relief. Regardless, he got up and stripped himself off his clothing, wrapping a fluffy white towel around his hips, tossing one across his shoulder and grabbing a bag with shower supplies.

As he was on his way to the showers, his head felt as if somebody was banging it on a table constantly. The fact that the hallways were buzzing with loud people didn’t help. He finally reached his destination and enclosed himself in one of the shower stalls. As oppose to toilets, showers here were always clean, which he was thankful for. While it was a must that you clean up after yourself (nobody wants to deal with your hair stuck on the drainage), it was being surprisingly well taken care of.

Thomas put his stuff on a small shelf and put the shower head on a hook. He set the water temperature just right, and then turned around, letting it cascade on his back. He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing in the feeling, but soon turned around to squirt some shampoo on his hand and clean himself. His hands maybe got held up in his lower regions for a longer time that one would consider appropriate. That resulted him having to additionally scrub his legs (and shower wall), but cut him some slack. He was being quiet, not that anybody could find out… besides, as he walked out, he realized with relief that nobody was there. He stopped at the sinks there and went on to brush his teeth.

Well, at least he thought that nobody was there. Few moments later, he heard water stop at another shower. Guess he didn’t notice that one before. He didn’t particularly care, but his gaze did avert from his own reflection in the mirror when he saw a very small man leaving the stall. And of course, _of course_ , it had to be Hamilton, of all people. Because that was just his luck. He didn’t know what it was about the smaller man that made him this wary. There was just something in his aura, something about the way he looked at Thomas, with those judgy little eyes and that barely recognizable frown. Although it was a very small touch, given the fact that the man almost never openly smiles, it was the distinction between ‘you annoy me, get out of my way’ and ‘I hate you with every fiber of my being, I hope you burn in hell’. Although Hamilton never went that far with his insults and would never say that, his expressions told a whole different story.

Just like he assumed, Hamilton didn’t fail to look at him. But what he didn’t imagine was Hamilton’s face turning from ‘I am indifferent to your existence’ to something he’s never seen on the man before, and he dares classify it as a hybrid between surprised and impressed. It was then that Thomas realized he was basically half-naked and almost dripping wet. He knew how he looked, he knew his own body, so he doesn’t understand quite _why_ was he taken by surprise when Hamilton looked at him that way, eyes darting about his torso. When Hamilton caught Thomas looking and lopsidedly smirking at him, his previous expression came back and he looked towards the mirror as he as well went on to brush his teeth.

Now it was Thomas’ turn to… observe. He did it much more discreetly, of course. Hamilton was, however small, not by any means unattractive. There was a feminine streak in the way he held himself, which Thomas found… appealing. His lower belly and tights were a little pudgy, but overall, it was obvious that he wasn’t new to the gym or the concept of exercise. Although the only thing about Hamilton that was less ‘cute’ were the bags under his eyes, darker than the dried ink on his fingers that at the moment, Hamilton was having a hard time scrubbing away. Next, Thomas eyes went to his chest, probably the most ‘confusing’ part of Hamilton’s body. There were two horizontal scars under his pecs. Hamilton didn’t look like a person that would hurt himself, so somebody else must’ve done it. Then again, the scars looked like they were made with surgical precision, and were way too symmetrical for Thomas to classify them as a result of an attack. He didn’t know what to think of it, but when he felt a pair of eyes on him, he went back to the prolonged action of washing his hands. He finally wiped them in a towel and went back towards his dorm room, where he got dressed up and then went out to grab something to eat.

His first resort was Dave’s Diner, a small but homely restaurant down the street. It was almost always crowded, due to its proximity to the college, as well as a high school. The waitress, a beautiful, 20something looking girl with dark, chocolate skin and curls that were always tamed into a bun. Her name was, Thomas overheard, Sally. She sauntered towards him with a bright smile on her face. “Good day, sir! Welcome to Dave’s Diner. May I take your order?”

He smiled back at her, rubbing his chin slightly, “Sally, be a lamb, darlin’, can you bring me a bowl of mac ‘n’ cheese, and a bottle of beer?”

“Sure can, sir. What kind?”

“Surprise me,” he winked flirtatiously, watching blush speak across her cheeks as she walked away towards the kitchen.

Not ten minutes later, his dish was ready and served, with the beer ‘on the house’. He knew that he can get away without paying if he appears friendly to the waitresses. It’s a thing he’s been doing since high school, actually.

Which got him thinking about high school. It were the good old days. He was well standing, but not too popular. He had excellent grades and a lovely girlfriend… well, actually, two of them. He begun dating Martha in his junior year, although he remembers a girl… what was her name, Alexis? Yeah, that. She was special, really. The first person he knew he loved, as the matter of fact.

As he reminisced, he felt a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. He should have stayed that night. He should have listened to her, there was so much he could have done to stop what happened. To stop her cousin from putting a gun to his head, to stop her from being taken away. Even though right now, he didn’t _feel_ anything for her – he couldn’t, he hasn’t seen her in five years almost – he felt immense amount of regret. By now, she would be 20 years old, if she were alive. Not that he has a reason to assume something has happened to her, something terrible as...well, as death, but he hasn’t heard from her in so long. And she never called, never let him know how was she. He assumed that orphanages didn’t quite allow cellphones, and when she came of age, there was no reason for her to contact him. Time has passed, both of them have moved on.

Finally, he ate his brunch, although it did already go cold. Still, it was edible. He payed up, left a tip and drove back to the dorms to take his books and get ready for class. It was poli-sci with Mr. Jay, a young professor that everybody he knew of loved just as much as his wife – their former teacher, who is now 4 months pregnant.

On his way to class, he ran into Lafayette. The Frenchman was delighted to see him, however he did not refrain from commenting about Thomas’ drunken shenanigans yesterday. Thomas shrugged and smiled apologetically, much to Gilbert’s amusement. They walked together, until Gil had to take a left turn towards pre-law and Thomas continued walking straight ahead. On his way, he saw a couple of familiar faces, one of them being – Hamilton. The immigrant clenched his fists on his backpack straps, hurriedly moving towards… poli-sci. _Of course._ Thomas groaned internally, not ready to face him after the ‘incident’ in the showers. It was beyond awkward even then, and he is afraid he might actually want the ground to split and swallow him whole. Although not many words were said, he felt as if Hamilton might try to use the way he was staring at the smaller man against him in debates. He hopes that he won’t do that, naturally. He hopes that Hamilton is decent enough person not to meddle discussions with personal affairs.

He walked into the classroom right after Hamilton, and climbed up to the top row, walked further to the left where he usually sat and prepared himself for class, taking out his textbook and notes. He reached in his bag, trying to find his essay -

Fuck.

 _Fuck_.

He couldn’t find it. There was no way he forgot to pack it.

But he did.

Now he groaned externally, much to the amusement of Seabury that sat in front of him. He glanced at his watch – he had 7 more minutes before Jay came in, even though the class starts in 15 minutes. The man always came earlier, even though it didn’t mean they would begin working earlier. He liked to take his sweet time preparing the projector, his papers, look around, maybe take a walk around the podium. But of course, everybody who was not present at that time ( _before_ class actually even started) would be considered ‘absent’. It was likely the only thing that people considered problem when it came to John Jay.

Thinking about it took Thomas another minute. Shit. Fuck. Even if he ran and reached the dorms in time, there was no way that he would be back before Jay walked in. He needed some kind of diversion. He looked around. He only saw unfamiliar faces, nobody he could ask to help. He knew that Seabury was too big of a pussy to try and trick someone about anything, so that’s not going to work -

 _Hamilton_.

“Psst!”, he called from where he sat, to the boy that was two rows away. Hamilton turned around, his resting bitch face still in place. He arched his eyebrow, as if he was utterly done with Thomas’ shit. Even though Thomas still didn’t ask anything from him, “Hamilton, I need help. Like, it’s urgent.”

“Give me a reason to help you. We’re enemies.” Hamilton simply shrugged, completely unbothered. He went back to turn around.

“Please, Hamilton. I’ll pay you if I must – but I mean it, it’s an emergency.” That looked as if it sparked some interest in Hamilton, and the man turned around again, eyebrow arched but this time in question. “What do you need?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper but Thomas could hear him anyway.

“I forgot my essay in my dorm. I need you to distract Jay while I go get it.”

Hamilton looked as if deep in thought, but then nodded, “Okay. I can do that.”

“For real?”

“Sure. You said you’ll pay me right?” Thomas nodded, “Good.” Hamilton rose from his seat and jerked his head to signalize Thomas to follow him, which the Virginian did. The were on the stairs, “You go now. I will wait for Jay and come up with… something believable. I can hold him off for a couple of minutes only. You have,” he glanced at the clock, “five more minutes. If we assume I can keep him away for another five, you should be good. Now go.” Hamilton basically pushed him through the door.

Thomas ran as if his life depended on it. He still didn’t know why Hamilton agreed to help him after so little convincing, but he was grateful. Maybe the immigrant doesn’t despise him as much as he says he does. No time to worry about that.

He was at the dorms in record four minutes, barged in his own and went berserk on his desk, rummaging through his school supplies. _Ha!_ He found it. Neatly contained in a plastic sheet protector, he snatched it out of a drawer and ran back.

When he reached the hallway, he didn’t see Hamilton or Jay standing in front of the classroom, but the doors were still swung open. It must have been a good sigh. And he was right. Jay was still not inside, and looking at the clock, he realized there were 4 minutes before the class begun. Which would usually be considered odd, but now he was thankful.

He climbed back up to his seat just as Jay and Hamilton walked in. Hamilton looked at him and winked, Thomas nodding knowingly in return. Jay cleared his throat, “Due to toilet plunging that Mrs. – I mean, Mr. Hamilton was so kind as to warn me about, I would like to ask you not to use the first floor toilets. The janitors will take care of it in a few hours, and you will be let know when it’s available to use again. Now, we may start with today’s lecture…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments, I love feedback.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reynolds being an ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Okay, something to keep in mind: This whole story will not just spin around Alex's gender. The conflict will start with it (as you will see here) but it is not the most relevant to the plot... just in the beginning.  
> 2\. In this chapter, just to be clear - James Reynolds does not know that Alex is trans*. He's just an ass.  
> 3\. I hope that dorm description is not too...complicated/long?  
> 4\. If I get anything wrong, please comment  
> 5\. I love your feedback! Give me opinions or suggestions - anything  
> 6\. My beta is on a vacation, sooo sorry about any grammatical errors ;c
> 
> WARNINGS/TRIGGERS  
> 1\. Misgendering  
> 2\. Mentions of attempted self harm  
> 3\. Alex is madly in love with Thomas

It has been a year and Alexander still cannot believe that Thomas goes to same college with him. _His_ Thomas. Only, he can’t let him find that out, no. He has to stay stealth. He doesn’t know how will Thomas react; considering he’s from the south – probably badly. But then again, John’s from North Carolina, and he is still his best friend. Bur John’s different. John is gay, John is like him.

The thing was, though, Alex desperately wants to get close to Thomas again. Though he still hadn’t transitioned at fifteen, it was one of the best eras of his life. If you don’t include Peter’s suicide. That still haunts Alex’s mind.

So to keep himself from getting hurt from the person he knows he cares about, he decided that he best keeps him at a safe distance and just doesn’t befriend him again. It was for the good of both of them, he told himself. The less Thomas knows, the better. Although the way Thomas (not so subtly) observed him in the showers made him feel uneasy; the way his eyes went up and down his body. From the man’s facial expression, Alex couldn’t tell what was his thinking. He knew that Thomas doesn’t recognize him, because Alex was sure that he would at least say something. But Alex has, at that very moment, grown suspicious of whether that was actually true; that was when his self defense mechanism came into play – the ‘stay out of my way, otherwise I will hurt you’ attitude. It seemed to work.

He didn’t expect that Thomas would still even want to look at him after that… encounter. Yet only an hour and a half ago, he was desperate for Alex’s help. Alex tried to resist, to blow him off in the most cold and neutral way he can, but he gave in; of course he did, because he’s weak. So he went to the nearest toilet and stuffed a bunch of toilet paper in one of them, causing the water to begin spilling out and thus, creating the perfect diversion. It was easy to get Jay to take a look at it, and then have him let the staff know. The doors were still open when he and the professor came back, and he silently prayed that Thomas had arrived; at last, it was hard not to spot his bushy afro in the back grow. Alex let out a breath of relief, then put on his mask on again, and just for the fuck of it, winked, as if letting Thomas know it has been taken care of. He then proceeded to ignore Thomas, not waiting for his reply, as he shuffled back into his seat next to Peggy. Peggy just looked at him with raised eyebrows but shrugged when Alex (obviously) purposefully averted his gaze towards Jay.

He glanced at the clock; 5 minutes until the lecture ends, and he can go to his dorm and contemplate his existence. That was, until Jay cleared his throat and said, “I have prepared a group project for you. It is fairly simple, and you will work in groups of three. I will pick the partners of first 17 of you, and then the remaining 17 will each join one pair. I hope I’m being clear?” Students nodded and Jay continued, “This will be entirely randomized, meaning nobody will be set up. Understand?” Again, they nodded and Jay went on, looking through the list of students on the gradebook on his laptop and pressing ‘Random Selection’ button. “Mr. Seabury and Mrs. Schuyler”, Peggy visibly rolled her eyes, much to Alexander’s amusement. He snickered. “Mrs. Lewis and Mr. Franklin”, you could hear Benjamin’s not-very-silent _‘yes!’_ from the right end of the room. “Mr. Hancock and Mr. Lee”, he kept going, Alexander waiting for his name to be said. It seemed like an eternity, “Mr. Jefferson… and Mr. Hamilton.”

The world as if stopped turning. What? No. No, that can’t be happening, he can’t spend that much time near Thomas. He only hopes that whoever is the third member of their group ends up being some loud kid that will take his attention away from Thomas, as well as Thomas’ attention off of him. Peggy only raised one eyebrow at him, when seeing how distressed he must’ve looked, hands rushing through his hair in a faster pace than usual (a tick he’s developed when he’s nervous) and the blood rush that painted his cheeks rosy-pink. “You okay, Alex?” she asked, laying a careful hand on his lower arm that was manically shaking on the desk.

“Sure. I’m fine. Totally”, Alex stammers, though he knows that he couldn’t even fool himself with that sentence. Luckily, Peggy shows mercy and stops asking questions.

He attempts to run off to his dorm immediately after class, so he can have time thinking about this garbage situation he found himself in (and for the first time it was not his fault). He sees Thomas and Reynolds sauntering out the door, probably trying to find him so they can schedule their work time. Alexander hopes he managed to ran off before they caught the sight of him sprinting away (like a maniac. He hopes that all that cardio has paid off just now). He reaches his dorm; it’s a room at the very end of the hallway, right next to the large window on the back of the building. There is a decent amount of space between it and the nearest dorm to it; something like seven meters, while every other is separated by three. It was an obvious difference. The architecture was different too; Alex’s dorm was, even though newer, more cramped and while there were two beds in it, he was never assigned anybody (you can imagine why). If you could peel off the three floors above his own and looked down at it, you could see that every dorm was shaped rectangularly. The difference was that others were turned vertically, with shorter wall on the door side and the room extending vertically as you walked in, while Alex’s was the opposite – the longer wall was the one with the door, and the bed took up most of the space on the side walls, leaving but a meter and a half of space between the end of it and the wall opposite of the door. This was because, where others’ dorms took up so much space being more narrow but longer, his was shorter and therefore able to contain a small, private bathroom for Alex, separated by another door and the said wall. It was a nice courtesy, enabled by George Washington. Alex would always deny having any privileges because his foster father worked as a professor, but this was an exception. Not that people bugged them with it. Those who understood him understood why he needed it, and those who didn’t – well, they don’t even bother commenting. A lot of them don’t even know what his dorm looks like, and they don’t have the desire to ask questions. Somehow, as soon as the word spread on campus that he didn’t have a roommate, they all assumed he was an asocial snowflake. Which of course, wasn’t even near the truth. He wasn’t asocial, he just didn’t like to share things about himself to complete strangers that will likely use the information against him.

That being said, he rushed in and locked the door behind him. Deep breaths, Alex. This wasn’t that big of a deal. They will be done with their project in a week, two tops – even though the deadline is a month, he will make sure they finish this as soon as possible.

He fished his phone out of his pocket. It was a new, different one, nothing like the old Nokia he used to have back in the day. But one thing he did, and never told anybody, not even George and Martha, was that, while transferring his SD card, he deleted every single contact except one.

‘Jeffershit <3’

When he was first transferred from Virginia to his old orphanage in Boston, he was, needless to say, beyond sad, confused, angry and an emotional mess. He doesn’t have any more family, all because his cousin decided to get drunk and make regrettable choices. He was moved away from the boy he liked – no, scratch that – the boy he _loved_. His phone privileges were immediately revoked, as expected. He could only get it back, as well as all of his belongings, if somebody decides to take him. And a year and a half later, Washingtons proved to be his saving grace. The first thing he wanted to do was text Thomas, tell him that he was alright and… and what? What would he do? He was kilometers away from Thomas; for all he knew, Thomas could have thought that he died along with Peter. He can’t just fly back in his life, like: ‘Hey dude, I know you haven’t heard from me in like, years, and you’re probably over it and happy with someone else, but here I am, letting you know that I still exist, a year and a half later. Oh and by the way, I live in New York now, how cool is that?’ No, that wouldn’t stand. So he goes over the texts every night (okay, maybe not every night, but very frequently) and reads their conversations. He, of course, has seen the 23 texts from Thomas after that day in the movies, all along the lines of ‘Alex? Alex, where are you? Are you okay? Please answer me, doll’ or some cutesy nickname like that.

It made his stomach twist only thinking about it. It made his eyes burn with unshed tears. It made him feel all the things he didn’t allow himself to feel all these years. Yet, he still opens his messages app and reads their texts all over again. It’s torture, but it’s his anchor.

In the midst of all this, he hadn’t realized that he was on the floor with his legs against his chest and back against the door. He suddenly picked himself up and instead, collapsed on his bed. He grabbed the laptop that laid on the foot of it and put it in his lap, checking his social media and emails.

It was 6 p.m. when he started to feel drowsy, which was unusual for him. He guesses all the emotions he went through in the course of few hours took a toll on him. The room was already comfortingly dark when he got in, a little light peaking through the yellow curtains. He always keeps them pulled, light only ever coming from the door, if he chooses to leave them ajar. He puts the laptop aside on his bedside cabinet and turns around to face the wall. He knows that he’s still in his school clothes, knows that his hair is already disgustingly greasy and that he won’t get to wash it before history lesson tomorrow but to hell with it, he thinks. He puts the feeling of disgust away, pushes it in the far corner of his mind and closes his eyes.

*~*

It hasn’t been two hours and he is already woken up by foot steps and then banging on his door. He doesn’t even get to sit up before his door is pushed open. “Thom- _Jefferson?_ ” he murmurs, slight panic rising in his throat. Breath in, breath out – neutral face… got it. “What do you want?” he grunts, rubbing his eyes to try and wake himself up.

Thomas looks at him with raised eyebrow and says, “I didn’t get to talk to you about the project after class. I couldn’t come earlier because I had literature immediately after it.” Alex nodded, Thomas continued, “So, do you know who our partner is?”

“Reynolds, I assume? Judging by the way you pranced around like best buddies,” Alex knows for a fact how much does Thomas hate the man in question, almost as much as Alex. He tries to get his mask on by making a few jabs at the expense of Thomas’ social life. Thomas wrinkles his nose and his posture stiffens. He hit a nerve. Dammit.

Thomas’ facial expression morphed from slightly worried to annoyed beyond belief. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and said, “Whatever, Hamilton. Be a dick. Anyways, yes it’s Reynolds. We are meeting in his dorm, tomorrow at 1 p.m. I checked, none of us has classes then. We will be working for an hour, and this will only be planning, giving tasks and making drafts. Be there,” he bit out the last words through clenched teeth, lip twitching in a snarl.

Perfect.

*~*

The next morning came soon, and this was in likelihood the first (probably the last) night that he had decent amount of sleep in college. Today he didn’t have time to shower at the ‘public’ bathroom, so he used his own. Part of him was beyond grateful that he has one only for himself, but lately, as he began feeling more and more masculine, he would try and use the showers and bathroom they all use. He passed, and that was great, honestly. It was the best feeling.

He quickly got in the shower, rinsed and got out in record time. It was 10 minutes until class, and he has to get ready quickly. Of course, one day that he sleeps well he has to sleep in. Nothing can ever go well for him, or so it seems. He put on a hoodie, jeans and sneakers, packed his backpack and rushed to the French class. He got in just in time, which made him feel happy about himself.

The class has gone smoothly (not without an argument breaking between him and Conway, but you can imagine that Alexander put the man in his place in a matter of moments. Really, it was silly that Conway still considers himself on Alex’s level). He then remembered he had to head towards Reynolds’s dorm. Fuck.

“ _You act like a girl, Alexander! Everything about you screams ‘femininity’!” a blonde boy mocked, black eyes staring at the back of Alex’s neck as Alex walked into his biology classroom. He felt the boy’s gaze on him. Even though he wore a binder and the baggiest hoodie he could find, he still grew no facial hair and his voice, even though he was 2 months on testosterone, still sounded pretty girly. He still has defined hips and some feminine quirks, something he still can’t get rid of, something that grew onto him in the last 17 years. “What, you won’t even say anything?” Reynolds kept taunting him. Alex knew he had to ignore it. George had said that he shouldn’t pay attention to people like James Reynolds. He said that they were venomous and had ill intentions, which wasn’t hard to notice. And Alex would usually shot back something, a comment or a cuss that would usually make Reynolds shut the hell up. But he didn’t want to disappoint Washington, not now when he finally got a chance to have a stable home and living conditions._

_It continued on for the rest of the day, and it almost made Alex put a blade on his skin that night._

_Almost._

_He was stronger than that._

He went to his room to pick up the books he needed, as well as pack his laptop. As he dug through the sock drawer where he held it (safety precautions, shut up) he found something. Something he didn’t use in a long time, but insisted on carrying it with him nonetheless. A packer. He ignored it at first but then, just as he was about to leave, he grabbed it and put it on. Just for the hell of it, just to make sure that Reynolds wouldn’t get any ideas. The guy was a fox, you can never be too careful.

With a quick text to Maria, he found out that Reynolds’ dorm was one floor below. He rushed down the stairs and looked for the dorm number 156. He found it in the middle of the hallway. The floor looked pretty much identical to his, but there was a lot more trash around, some lights weren’t working and the whole thing looked shady. He brought his shaky hand up and knocked three times with his knuckles, clenching his backpack straps with the other. He waited for the doors to open.

Reynolds poke his head out, and Alex swore the shit-eating grin on his his face, accompanied by a fear-inducing smirk was a recipe for disaster. _“Alexandra!”_ he said. Alex flinched but looked up in his eyes. If looks could kill, James would be dead, “what a pleasure. Please do come in, m’lady!” he stepped aside. Alex frowned as he stepped into the room. Immediately he was disgusted by the odor of weed, stale in the air. The whole room had a grey feel it it, granted, because of all the obvious smoke in the air, but also because the blinds were closed and most of the interior was some darker color. However, Thomas was there already. Alex could see by the expression on his face he wasn’t too happy with the situation either. He was on the couch, in front of a coffee table. Alex chose to sit on it as well, an arm’s length away from the Virginian, while James sat on the armchair. He hated this.

The three men opened their laptops and proceeded to work; granted, Reynolds didn’t really do anything. Thomas was mostly stating facts and giving ideas, while Alex did that plus write it all down, since he can type the fastest. At some point, Reynolds lit up a cigarette and the room smelled even worse than initially.

“Care to put that out, James?” Thomas’ voice broke the silence. Alex saw the way he drummed on the table with a pen, and he knew that Thomas was irritated. He would always do that. For example, when himself, Thomas, James (Madison) and Dolley were stopped by police, and even though they had their seat-belts on, drove under the speed limit and James had a license, they still gave them shit about it. They talked to James outside the car for 20 minutes straight, until they let them go. And all the while, Thomas kept drumming on the glass with his fingers.

He got ahead of himself.

“Why, though? Can’t I have a smoke in my own place?” James said casually, shrugging and taking another whiff.

“We are _working_ here, you know. It’s not the time. And since _you_ aren’t doing anything _productive_ , it would be a nice courtesy to at least let us do the job in _peace_ ,” Thomas’ voice dripped with venom as he sent daggers in Reynolds’ direction, dark eyes intently staring at the man who was, by now, completely splayed out on the armchair.

“Of course,” he said sarcastically, and then out of sheer spite, threw his cigarette at Thomas. Thomas cussed as it landed on his slacks, making a small, black circle where the fabric got burned.

“You motherfuck-” Thomas jumped up, fists clenched. He looked as if he was ready to damn well throttle James. The blonde only sneered at him, as if saying _come and get me._ Alexander wasn’t about to have a bloodbath on his hands, so instead, he grabbed Thomas by the sleeve, “what the fuck are you doin-”  
“Jefferson, stop,” Alex said – no, actually, Alex commanded. It made both men freeze, “he is not worth it. Come on,” he swallowed, “we can go work somewhere else and then he’ll explain Mr. Jay why exactly his name isn’t on the work.” Thomas looked at him as if he were a specimen from some other planet, as if he couldn’t believe Alex would raise his voice. Sure it happened, plenty of times, and most of those times it was directed at Thomas. But that was in class. Outside, Alex was a pretty quiet kid, especially around people like Reynolds, Lee or Monroe.

“Listen to your _girlfriend, Tommy-boy,_ ” James mocked. They both ignored him.

Alex got up to his feet and only then did Thomas look at him, then back at James and then nodded, “Okay. Let’s go.” and then, Lord help him, he took Alex’s hand and pulled him out of the dorm. The minor contact left Alexander flustered, he hadn’t realized how much he missed it. But as the doors closed behind him, he had to compose himself. Thomas let go of his hand and instead looked down at him, “Where should we go?”

“I’m sorry?”

“We need to go somewhere to end our first drafts, you moron,” Thomas said, rolling his eyes. Alex nodded, a pang of hurt in his chest at the insult, but he managed, “I – we can go to my room. I don’t share it with anyone, so there’s enough room for the both of us.” Thomas nodded at the suggestion and then let Alex lead the way.

*~*

Alex would lie if he didn’t like the proximity as they sat on the floor next to each other, however, he stayed away. He kept his hands busy by typing, tapping or simply holding some kind of pen. They have made a substantial amount of work, even more so than with James, and it’s barely been an hour and a quarter since they left. They worked together surprisingly well, not breaking into a fight even once, although they did bicker like old ladies over unimportant things.

Thomas didn’t comment once on the odd position of his room, or why he lives alone, or why is there a separate bathroom inside. Alex was grateful for that. As Thomas started to get up, he pulled Alex on his feet with him, making the immigrant’s heart rate quicken. This was unexpected and new and he was totally not okay with it.

Except he was, and he hated it. It’s been five years, he’s been _pining_ for _five_ _years_. How pathetic is that? Thomas probably has a girlfriend anyways, if not here, then surely some southern belle waiting for him in Virginia. And if he remembers correctly, Thomas is the straightest person he ever met, basically the embodiment of masculinity, and Alex has no reason to believe that, even if Thomas does find out, he’d want him again. Because Alex is not the same person that he used to be, and not only physically. He changed a lot, given his circumstances.

Thomas left, and they split on good terms, for once in life. Alex doesn’t go to sleep early that night, contemplating what to do with himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shitstorm is about to sway Alex off his feet. It starts right here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!  
> Explicit sexual content! The scene starts with "This whole thing was a mistake. A big fucking mistake" and ends with "A big fucking mistake." If you skip through it, you don't miss much. SPOILER RIGHT NOW, SAYING WHO IT IS BETWEEN!!! Maria and Alex.

Alexander woke up to his first alarm, that is – at 8 o’clock, but decided to snooze the shit out of it and got up at 10 instead. Admittedly, not the brightest choice he’s ever made. He was finally about to sit up, when he heard knocking on the door. He groaned, rubbed his eyes and slipped out of bed, making the few steps towards them (not without tripping few times and having to hold himself up using the wall) and opened them. In front of him stood a tall figure, a shining smile on his face, “Alex!” he said, all too excitedly for a Saturday morning.

“Hey, Gilbert,” Alexander responded tiredly, a grin twitching in the corner of his lips as he let the Frenchman walk into his dorm, “what’s the occasion?” he inquired, walking back to his bed, straightening the comforters and sitting down, his hands planted at his sides to hold him up.

“No occasion, petit lion. Just thought to, how you say, come by and hang out,” he sat, taking a seat on the empty bed across the room.

“Please Gilbert, don’t sell me that ‘how you say’ bullshit,” Alexander remarked, though the comment was good-natured. Gilbert laughed lightly, and Alex continued, “you and I both know that you are more eloquently spoken than all of us.”

“Yet I’d never use the term ‘eloquently spoken’” Lafayette tilted his head.

“You know what I mean,” Alex said, waving his hand, and Lafayette agreed.

“Anyways,” the other man said, “I just came by to see how you’re doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been told by a little bird that you’re stuck on a project with James Reynolds and one Thomas Jefferson. Isn’t that true, mon chou?” Lafayette asked, his voice sympathetic, leaning back on his hands on the bed.

Alexander nodded, “Well, yeah. Thom-  _Jefferson_  isn’t half bad to work with. I mean, sure, sometimes he can get… out of line, but he’s determined to make this good. But Reynolds… he’s something else. He doesn’t even try, just spews insults and nasty remarks,” he makes a short pause, “It is honestly beyond me why would Jefferson ever consider to choose him to work with on a project. He knows all too well what scum he is. If I’m not mistaken, he hates him as much as I do.”

“Maybe mon tigre didn’t have anyone else to ask?”

“Not good enough of an excuse,” Alex frowned, “I’d rather the two of us worked alone. Off-note, we actually did. We weren’t even in his dorm for two hours when Jefferson got sick of him and we came by to work here,” he shrugged.

“And how did that go?”

 _It was really nice. He was being really nice, sympathetic even. I loved how close we sat, I loved being close to him after all the years passed. I missed him, I wish he knew._ “It was… eh, average.”

Lafayette nodded, “Ah. I am glad nothing broke out between the two of you. You two are like unstoppable forces,” Alex laughed at the comment, “I’m not kidding! If you were friends, you could make big things happen after college. You two are equally smart, equally persistent, determined. Trust me, petit lion, if only both of you would try.”

Alexander for the first time in his life didn’t know what to say; he was completely at a loss of words. Gilbert was on good terms with both of them. He and Thomas got exceptionally close when they were together in France, a year before Lafayette’s family along with Thomas, came to US. Hell, they were neighbors before, and now even their dorms are next to  one another.

“Uh, thank you?” it sounded more like a question rather than a statement, his voice kind of cracking around the words, and he cusses inside his head for it. Lafayette huffs a laugh, and his eyes drift around the dimly lit room. Eventually he comments, “Why don’t you let out some light in here?”

“I prefer it like this. It’s sets a calming atmosphere,” he admits warily, now fiddling with his fingers in his lap. He glances at Lafayette, who now carefully says, “Alexander -” fuck, why did he use his first name, “- you know that you can talk to any of us if you have any issues with -” he gestured at him. Alex is quick to say, “No, it’s not that. I just have a lot on my mind and this helps.”

“You can talk about that too, you know.”

“I know.”

“Good,” Lafayette gives him a small nod, and walks over him, puts a hand on his shoulder. Alex offers a small smile and the Frenchman smiles back, before striding towards the door and exiting the room, closing them before he leaves.

Alexander has by now been completely stirred awake, and decided to take a shower. He grabbed his supplies and walked out. Since everybody has probably showered at a reasonable time in the morning, the showers were petty empty. He chose a cabin and got to it. He first went on to wash his hair, since it was getting pretty greasy. He hasn’t had much time lately, drowning in essays, homework and all that good college stuff. He’s been overworking himself, being awake at late hours at night.

Suddenly, he heard voices that made blood freeze in his veins.

“He’s such a little bitch,” said Reynolds, followed by a hum of agreement.

“Maybe you’re giving him too much attention though. You know that whore loves attention,” replied Charles Lee. They stopped few steps away from his cabin. Another hum of agreement.

“We all know that Hamilton will do anything to save his reputation. So, why not give him a reason to make a fool of himself?” this time, it was Monroe.

A pause. Alexander bit the inside of his cheek, his face furiously getting redder because of the sheer rage growing in him.

“Yeah. We can do that. How though?”

“You know your ex, right? What was her name, Mary, Maria?”

“Maria.”

“So we will -” and at that point, their voices turned to whisper and minutes later, all of them found their showers.

He ha to act quick. He had to get out of the shower and dry himself before any of them does. Immediately he put his supplies back into his bag and wrapped a towel around himself. He wished he could pull it up to cover his scars, but something at the back of his mind told him that it would look too… to feminine? Something girls would do. Before he got to reason with himself, he walked out. He walked down the hallway with fearful anticipation, prays that nobody looks at him, or stops him and asks questions. Were he thinking rationally, he wouldn’t care, wouldn’t pay it half mind. But something in him, the same force that rushed him out of the showers and made him march towards his dorm, it made him do crazy shit even in the past. No time to think it through now. He walked into his dorm and shut the door with a loud thud.

By this point, Alexander was breathing quickly and shallowly. His nails dug into his upper arms as he held his arms crossed across his chest. It will leave temporary quarter moon-shaped markings. They started to bloom in purple and red shades as soon as he released his arms out of his own grasp and let them fall limp at his sides. He dragged himself towards his closet and picked out his clothing to the day. He was already dried at this point, and he will blow-dry his hair afterwards. His choice of clothing ends up being a short-sleeved button up and jeans ripped at the knees. He looked happy with his looks, even managed to smile slightly at his reflection in the full-length mirror on the door of the closet.

He hopped back on his (now made) bed and grabbed his phone. He was about to ring up Peggy, see if she wants to grab coffee across the campus. The device started buzzing in his hands, and then his ringtone (some obnoxious alert-like sound Laurens put on) could be heard. The contact name was ‘Washing Machine’.

“Hey, dad,” he said weakly, attempting an uplifting note to his voice.

“What’s wrong, Alexander?” came Washington’s voice from the other side.

“What? Nothing,” he said, slightly confused. What? He didn’t know, he couldn’t. Was it worry in Alexander’s voice that gave him away?

“You don’t address me with ‘dad’ when nothing is wrong,” oh. Fuck.

“Ah, yes. So, don’t worry… I just had a disagreement with um, John.”

“Oh. In that case, I hope everything goes well between you two. I know he’s your closest friend.”

“Yeah, thanks… George.”

“Anyways, I called to check up on you. I haven’t talked to you like a father to son. We only barely communicate between classes, and I do get worried,” pause, “like a father.”

“I know, I know. I’m doing okay, though,” he smiled, to himself only, because Washington couldn’t have seen him.

“I am glad. Would you mind having a dinner with me tomorrow? I’m getting away from work at home around 7, the latest.

“Sure, we can go. Dave’s?”

“Yes, Bye, son.”

“Bye,” he swallowed, “dad.”

He heard George chuckle before the other man hung up.

*~*

Alexander has been on tiptoes for hours. He walked down the hallways, always turning, eyes as if on the back of his head. Even when he ran into Eliza and she put a hand on his shoulder, yes – a friendly gesture, he flinched in fear. He didn’t even want the night to come, because he knows that as soon as it does, he will start picturing things, everything bad that James is capable of doing, or even worse – what he might do to him.

In all honesty, he doesn’t know what did he do to James, ever. And when he saw James in the same college as himself on the first day? His heart dropped to his stomach and he lost his breath when he saw him. And the blonde man? He only winked at him and smirked when he caught the sight of him.

He apologized to Eliza and let her go back to where she was headed. He continued down the hallway and was going to knock on Lafayette’s doors. He was bored, and figured that the Frenchman could humor him.

And then he felt somebody tapping on his shoulder. He didn’t panic because the touch was light, and the person behind him didn’t give off ‘Reynolds vibes’. He turned around and faced one Maria Lewis. She wore a red shirt and skinny jeans, her hair was curled and let down on her shoulders. She wore a beautiful red lipstick and looked astonishing. So much so that his mouth went dry.

“M-Maria – hi!”

“Hey, Alexander,” this immediately made him grow suspicious. She always called him ‘Alex’. The weren’t the best of friends, but were much closer than somebody he might have met only few months ago, “are you busy?” she asked sweetly, her hand not leaving where it was around his shoulders.

“Not really. How may I help you?” he offered.

“Hm, nothing much you can _help_ with… although there’s something you could do with me.”

“Oh, is that so?” he smiled.

“Yes.” she smirked.

*~*

This whole thing was a mistake. Mistake and a half.

He was in Maria Lewis’ dorm room, with his shirt lost somewhere on the floor and his pants half way down his knees. Maria rid herself off her clothing a long time ago, and now only looked up at him in her laced, black underwear, from where she knelt on the floor in front of him. They were a matching set, he noted, and wondered whether it was something she would wear every day. But as he fingers trailed up to the inside of his tights, he lost his track of mind. “M-Maria – hold on.”

She paused, raising her eyebrows, uncertainty written across her face, “Yes, Alexander?”

“I am…”, he needed her to know, “this might not have been the best time to say this… but I’m trans,” he expected her to be disgusted and mad at him for not thinking of mentioning this ‘small information’ to her before, and was entirely unprepared when she just smiled and shrugged, with ease saying, “Okay,” and continuing her work of undressing him. She made it clear how slow she will get done with it, and to some extent, the dance of her fingertips on his skin is such private areas made his breath hitch in his throat, his arousal dripping down his legs. Finally she pulled down his boxers and didn’t wait when licking a stripe up his sex, making his toes curl, his hand immediately flying down to grip her hair. She hummed at the contact, sending pleasurable vibration through his body, making him audibly moan. She seemed happy with the response she got, and repeated the action.

Sometime after that, she moved her mouth away and whispered, her voice sweet and sultry, “Move to the bed, yeah?” and he was quick to nod furiously, making the girl below him giggle. He walked backwards until he plopped down on the mattress. She laid beside him and jerked at him with her head, and then at her bottom half, “Your turn.”

Alexander was dumbfounded but then her words came to his brain, “Oh, yes, okay”, he crawled down and positioned himself between her spread legs, inching towards the join of her tights. He placed her hands lightly on her hips lightly, but it didn’t stop her from bucking her hips up when he flicked his tongue over her clit. She moaned loudly, much to his own satisfaction. He hasn’t done this in a long time, but admittedly, he still hadn’t lost his _thing_. He put his mouth a little more south, licking up her folds, making her legs shake.

She came with a loud yelp, and slowly her legs as well stopped twitching. She took few deep, long breaths. She looked down at him and arched her eyebrow, “C’mon, big guy. Wanna sit up here?” she gestured at her face and Alex _felt_ the blood rush color his cheeks. He heard Maria chuckle, but regardless, climbed up. He was hesitant, when kneeling above her, but then firm hands on his hips pulled him down. Immediately he grabbed the pillows with his fists, making his knuckles turn white below the pressure. His toes curled again. As Maria worked, she’d occasionally go somewhere more _south_ than his sex, and that would make him blush even harder, for he wasn’t aware at first at everything that was the girl’s _region_ of interest. He came with his head thrown back and a loud, bitten out groan. He collapsed at her side, feeling an arm drape around his middle, pulling him closer.

A big fucking mistake.

*~*

He woke up and glanced at the clock on the night stand. It was 11 p.m., still Saturday. He then glanced back at the girl whose tired head was resting on his chest. She was breathing deeply, still asleep. He wiggled his way out of his grasp. He swore he could see her blink her eyes open, and stilled. But looking back at her, she was still in the same position, but her arm now curled to her chest. He went on to try and find his clothes and get dressed in record time quietly. In hurry, he didn’t realize that something went missing out of his pocket, before racing out of the room and softly closing the door.

There was nobody in the hallways, something he was grateful for. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t too tired, and there was practically no chance that he would be able to make himself fall asleep, considering all the cups of coffee he has had that day.

The night was young, and momentarily he made the decision to go grab something to eat.

*~*

“I did it,” Maria said, barely a whisper.

“Good. Finally some use of you,” James scoffed, “anyways, I hope you did take it.”

She nodded, handing the taller man a small, brown wallet. He nodded in approval, and she looked down, bowing her head in submission. When he announced that she may leave the room, she did it as quickly as possible, trying to blur away the imagine of poor Alexander in her bed, not expecting the shitstorm that’s about to hit him. She ignored Lee’s vulgar arguments about her ass and ‘bomb-ass titties’ and left the room. She wanted to cry, but knew that she should stay cool, calm, and collected.

She found her way back to her dorm through the dark hallways, who seemed even darker now, and locked her doors. She walked into the kitchenette and grabbed a bottle of some cheap wine from her fridge, taking a seat up on her counter, feeling tiny droplets run down from her eyes, across her cheeks. “Gonna ruin my mascara,” she laughed bitterly, “great,” and took another swing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is up literally 5 hours later than I said it will be. My internet went down for a few hours and I just wasn't able to upload. Hope ya don't mind.
> 
> I literally love comments more than myself. Please feel free to give me any feedback.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shit you not, I literally rewrote this 5 times and this was only time I was remotely happy with the result. The beginning is a little stale, forgive me for that.
> 
> WARNINGS;  
> \- Graphic descriptions of violence  
> \- Misgendering  
> \- Reynolds Being an ass
> 
> Note: Reynolds' threats do not actually come true, so no worries with that
> 
> That's about it, y'all.

It was Sunday; a day of relaxation, calmness and overall peace. A day that everything on campus usually slows down, people aren’t in hurry and everybody seems to be more tolerant, more sincere, more happy.

Not today, though.

He was walking right out of his dorm, locking it as he did. He felt good today, even had a surprising spring to his step as he walked out of the dorm building. He had no particular destination, just thought that he might meet any of his friends while he’s out.

Boy, was he wrong.

Towards him walked three tall figures; it didn’t take him long to figure out who they were, but he truly didn’t know what they were up to. He stopped, moving one step back but they only sped walked towards him faster. As soon as they reached him, James grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pressed him up against the building wall. Alex wanted to kick and punch and twist and turn and break free – but the shock as if took over his body. He felt out of breath, his throat tighten and his chest heavy.

“Dear Miss Hamilton,” he started, a condescending smirk plastered onto his features, an evil glint in his dark, dark eyes; the rim of brown as if blended with the black irises, chasing fear into Alex’s body, making him shiver (which he did try and suppress, with little luck), “I hope you’re in a good enough position to do some favors for people like me – down on their luck. See, that was my girlfriend last night you decided to fuck,” he bit out, glaring at him. Lee and Conway blocked anyone from seeing what was happening on the sides.

“What?” Alexander was dumbfounded. He didn’t… he didn’t -

Unless he did.

“Don’t play a fool with me, Hamilton. Don’t try to deny it, either. In my sweet, _sweet_ Maria’s room, I found a little something that proves this to me -” he reached his free hand into the back pocket of his jeans, “- tell, me Hamilton, was it recently that you lost your wallet?”

This couldn’t be. He couldn’t have been that unaware that he just left it. Yet…

Yet.

He tried the last tactic on his mind, knowing that Reynolds won’t buy it, but it was his only option, “I-I didn’t know, I swear -”

“Oh, don’t you lie to me, _missy_. We are the most known about couple on campus. Your big brain can’t possibly be as dense,” he opened his mouth to retort, James rose up his balled fist, and Alex immediately clasped them shut. It seemed to please James, given the smug smirk that came back, and he continued, “I sure hope you wouldn’t want this information out, now would you?”

Alex shook his head, not daring to say a word of opposition.

“Good. Now, how about we settle a deal, of sorts? I am sure you wouldn’t mind getting down on your knees once or twice for us, would you, _Alexandra_? To prove what a little bitch you can be.”

Alexander felt his whole world crumbling around him. He- he couldn’t do that. He can’t. But he will have to. Truth be told, he wouldn’t mind as much if James told everybody; his reputation wouldn’t really be at stake – it would be James’. He’d just do damage to himself. But he suspected that James would go even further lengths to hurt him, were his answer ‘no’ to the man’s sick and twisted proposition. So with a single nod, he accepted it. James snickered and released him from his hold, letting Alex fall to the ground.

*~*

“Hey, George. What’s going on with ya?” Alex asked as casually as possible, as he and his father chose a booth at Dave’s Diner and took menus in the hands. Washington was casually turning the pages, blissfully ignorant of how much stress is Alexander enduring. Alex, on the other hand, was taking silent deep breaths, an attempt to calm himself down the best of his ability, and did the same. Eventually, a waitress walked over to them. “My name is Sally, may I take your order?”

Sure enough George looked at his son with raised eyebrows, before Alexander nodded and the older man spoke, “I will have a steak and a salad, and a wine of your choice.”

“I’ll go with a cheeseburger, fries, and coke,” Alex decided and Sally nodded, strolling away.

“That’s not an awfully healthy choice of a meal, Alexander,” Washington noticed, tilting his head.

The younger man made eye contact shortly, trying to make the words in his mind reach his mouth, “Well, it is what it is. It’s the best I can usually get.”

“Is it financial issues? Because you know Martha and I -”

“No, dad, it’s nothing of the kind. I just don’t have a lot of time to eat, is all. Studying and… social life, yeah,” he winced. While it wasn’t really a lie, it was true that he was slightly broke, he felt uncomfortable outright hiding things from his dad. But he just couldn’t admit this one. It’d be too much. Washington however seemed happy with the answer given to him and nodded (either that, or Alex suspected he was hell of a good actor; somehow, the immigrant thought that it was the latter).

Alex was hit with the obnoxiously familiar smell of some expensive French cologne before the person that wore it came into his field of vision. He _felt_ him, his presence, in matter of seconds, before he even reached their booth.

“Alexander,” Thomas said, “Hi. I’m sorry to interrupt,” he glanced at Washington, who dismissively waved his head, and the man turned back to the immigrant, “I was about to hit you up about continuing our work. Can you come by today? If you have time. I can barely fit it into my schedule at all this week, and I really think that we shouldn’t have a seven day delay -”

“Yes, Jefferson – whatever,” he didn’t even look at him. He saw in his peripheral vision how Thomas’ posture stiffened, and how he dug his fingers into the cushion of the seat he leaned on.

“Fine. Come by anytime, I guess,” and with that, he left.

Washington was quiet for a little while, until Sally brought them their dishes. Then he asked, “I never realized this Alex, but… and I’m sorry that I have to ask, but is Thomas Jefferson… _the_ Thomas?”

Alex was already looking downwards, and this only made him clench his fists. He managed, “Yeah,” his voice was barely a whisper.

“I- I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, dad.”

“I know, I just wished I would have pulled the strings together sooner. Is this why you’re being so tense all this time?”

“What – no!” Alex’s eyes darted up, “Thomas has nothing to do with this. Our relationship hasn’t changed ever since I started college.”

“I don’t think it’s healthy living with that kind of burden.”

“Well, so far I have shouldered every burden. Every trouble regarding him I have learned to manage. I keep my distance, I try not to get too close.”

“Why, though?”

“He can’t know.”

“Alexander, I don’t think he would think of you any differently if you just told him. You could be happier. All I’m saying,” George started with his meal.

“Or, he could not accept me, treat me even more like garbage, be disgusted with himself that he ever dated a freak like me and-and hate me -”

“Alexander,” George interrupted, “you are not a freak. He won’t reject you. Don’t ever think that there isn’t something normal about you, because I am telling you right now, you’re worth and valid and the best son I could have ever wished for.”

Alex blinked, trying to comprehend this much information. He managed a weak ‘yeah, thanks dad’ before directing his full attention at the hamburger that was starting to get cold.

*~*

He practically snuck into his dorm tiptoeing. He locked the door, for the good measure. He checked how late it was – not too late, actually. It was 8:05, and he decided that he will come by Jefferson’s around 9. Before that, he decided he has some work to do.

*~*

And about an hour later, this is what he has came up with.

 _From:_[alex.hamilton@gmail.com](mailto:alex.hamilton@gmail.com)  
For: [jamesrey@hotmail.com](mailto:jamesrey@hotmail.com)   
Subject: 

_Dear Mr. Reynolds,_

_I hope this email finds you in good health, and in good enough mood to make you read it. It was brought to my attention, rather abruptly by yourself, that you indeed have some problems with me. Now it’s me having an amorous connection with your alleged girlfriend, but what was it in high school? Anyways, not to dwell into the past. I wish to settle matters of our conflict with a public debate, if you will. Or an argument, depends on how you view it. I will be expecting to see you in the front yard at the benches, tomorrow at 10 p.m. I know you don’t have classes then. Let’s resolve this like civilized men, and not like animals who spew out threats of sexual nature, all bark but no bite. Or at least, one of us is doing that._

_But you also must know that, if she indeed is your girlfriend and you speak the truth, then I feel like it is my obligation to let you know that I deeply regret assuming otherwise without a proper, reliable source._

_Your obedient servant,  
A. Ham_

And with one click, the email was sent.

*~*

He knocked onto Jefferson’s doors three times before the man opened them. His hair was wet and wrapped into a towel, and he wore pajamas.

Yes. Your eyes don’t deceive you; while his shirt was a normal, plain, gray tee – his bottoms were something rather laughable. They were dark purple, with sewn on fluffy clouds, drawn rainbows and unicorns. Alex wanted to suppress his laugh, but he couldn’t help the unattractive snort that escaped. He tried to cover his mouth by clasping his hand over them, eyes darting from Jefferson’s face, down to his interesting sleepwear, several times. Jefferson scowled.

The sight was rather comical.

He let him in with a scowl, maybe a playful one, but a scowl nonetheless.

“Okay, I brought my laptop, on which I have saved everything we’ve made so far – it’s only logical, really, why am I even saying this? Anyways – if I’m not mistaken, you were supposed to research Von Steuben’s early life. I was supposed to dive into his political beliefs, but I will admit right away that I hadn’t had the time to do all that much, and since you said that I could come by any time, I assume you have plenty of time on your hands and so do I, so I don’t view it as a problem although -”

“Hamilton,” Thomas drawled, walking up to the man and laying a hand on his shoulder, making Alex hyper-aware of his touch, but hoping not to give it away, “slow the fuck down, shut the fuck up. We have two more weeks for this, it will be fine. Besides, I’ve made some progress on what Reynolds should have looked into, so that makes us more than ahead of our work.”

“That’s… yeah, okay,” Alex nodded few times more than necessary, looking anywhere but at Thomas, whose hand was now slowly slipping down from his shoulder, to the small of his back, and the taller man guided him to his own bed (which was nicely made, he’ll give him that. The duvet was dressed into a soft purple, not exactly Alexander’s choice, but it’s easier on the eyes than probably any item of clothing Thomas possesses).

“D’ya want anything to snack? Drink?” Came the question as soon as Alex sat himself down. He wasn’t prepared and he was stuck silent again (truly a monumental occasion), before he stammered out, looking up towards Thomas who was still standing on his feet.

“Coffee?”

“Y’got it,” the Virginian nodded and sauntered away towards the kitchen. Alex heard him start the coffee machine, before another question came his direction, “How’d you want it?”

“Uh, black, no milk, half a spoon of sugar.”

“You’re one of _those_ people?” He practically heard the sneer in Thomas’ voice.

“What ‘ _those_ people’,” Alexander said defensively, but with no real heat behind his words.

“Those bastards who drink their coffee just so it keeps them awake and not for any enjoyment? Disgusting.”

“Please, what else do you need from a coffee at 8 p.m.? Give me a break,” he added, “You sound like Trump.”

“Trump?” Thomas snorted.

“Yeah. He always does that thing where he finishes most of his sentences in one word? Like on Twitter, do you follow him? Let me pull out one of his latest gems,” Alexander opened Chrome and looked up the man’s Twitter. By that time, Jefferson was back holding two cups of coffee in his hands, and he laid them on the small coffee table that Alex didn’t even notice he pulled from Madison’s side of the room to closer to Thomas’ bed.

Thomas leaned closer, eyes on fixed on the laptop screen, his arm with which he held himself up lightly grazing Alex’s shoulder. Fucking proximity. Anyways, he read aloud, with his best impression of Trump, “Carly, whose campaign is dead, is making false statements about me in order to salvage hope -” pause. He looked at Thomas and did Trump’s famous ‘ok’ gesture with his hands, “- _sad_.”

He wasn’t prepared for Thomas’ roar of laughter. It caught him off guard and he started laughing as well, having to rub the tears away from his eyes, and watching Thomas roll on the bed. Maybe initially it wasn’t as funny, but they have spent the next fifteen minutes impersonating Trump, and generally making fun of him.

*~*

When the clock marked 2 a.m., they were almost very well done with their project. Thomas saw Alex out of his dorm and politely wished him good night. Alex did the same, and strolled away to his room, collapsing on the bed without even closing the door.

*~*

He managed to drag himself out of bed by 9:40 and got ready by 9:50. He was half-sprinting down the stairs to meet the man – if he decides to come – where he said. He didn’t get any response from Reynolds, but he can only hope.

He sat one one of them and it was already 10:10. He shouldn’t have trusted somebody who uses ‘hotmail’ still. Though his doubts have been dismissed as soon as he saw one James Reynolds, not accompanied by Lee, Conway, Monroe – none of his crew. Alexander exhaled a breath of relief, but also made him question what was he planning to do.

As soon as he got few feet away from him, Reynolds sneered at him, “What a fine morning, Miss Hamilton, why might you be waiting for?”

He didn’t even care at this point, “Reynolds,” he only barely acknowledged the man’s existence, barely sparing him a look that lasted longer than 3 seconds. He didn’t look down, just around, at the crowd that started forming around them.

James then proceeded to get up on one of the benches and then so did Alexander, “Permission to state my case?” and somehow, even though none of this was per-organized, the crowd around them (some of which were lawyers) hummed in agreement, “Gentlemen of the jury, I’m curious – bear with me,” he started. This wasn’t anything like the speech he has prepared and practiced, but screw it. He can never learn if he doesn’t experience, “Are you aware what’s of what’s going on?”

Most of them shook their heads.

“Our beloved Mr. James Reynolds here made an unjust accusation against me; however true it was that I have gotten involved with his girlfriend – alleged girlfriend – he cannot blame me for not knowing they were not in a relationship. The reason I say ‘alleged’ is because I have sources that tell me otherwise,” he was sort of bluffing this one. Only thing he knew was that Eliza mentioned about finally wanting to ask Maria out, now that she was single. And he was paying half attention to that as well. Maybe they got back together? No time to think about that now, “and not to mention, she came to me. Seduced me in a hallway. So I am asking you to tell me were the accusations justified?”

On scene came one and only, Aaron Burr. A law major, younger than many that were on his level. He took accelerated courses and was graduating this year, despite being one year younger than Alexander himself. Alex didn’t really like him, but that was a whole another topic, “This is no court room, and I am no lawyer, but I think we should give Mr. Reynolds a chance to defend himself”, he glanced at the man on the other bench and gestured with his hand at him, “You have the floor, Sir.”

Reynolds nodded, his smirk now a scowl, “Charles Lee, Thomas Conway, James Monroe, Samuel Seabury and myself were stopping by Maria just two days ago. I had to pick up some of my things I left at her place, and when I kindly asked her to hand them, she left. I sat on her bed, and on the floor, on the carpet, there was a wallet. Which got me confused; it was a faux leather, cheap one. And I know for a fact that Maria’s is red. So I take it and open it, and what do I see?” one unnecessary dramatic pause later, “A student’s ID of Alexander Hamilton. I have four witnesses, like I said,” he looked down at the crowd; and would you look at that; the four men stood in the first lines, nodding.

“Mr. Hamilton, your comment?”

Alexander smirked and rolled his shoulders. He’s got this, “Mr. Reynolds, with all due respect, Sir, I still do not understand how does this help your case? Because what I am picking up here, you just confirmed what I have confessed already. I have had a single intimate encounter with Miss Maria Lewis,” he continued, “the question here, though, is – how can you even assume that I knew about your relationship?”

Reynolds flinched; it was obvious that he hadn’t expected that. He had no defense, his plan has failed and crumbled. So, the man resorted to his true nature – something everybody knew he was capable of, yet nobody thought he’ll do it.

He launched himself across his bench and landed on Alexander, making them both fall across the back of the bench and on the hard ground. Reynolds hasn’t had a particularly hard fall, but Alexander felt the hair leave his lungs, and for a moment he thought he will black out due to how strong the impact is. Reynolds grabbed him by the collar and smashed his fist into Alex’s face.

Even though Alex didn’t know this (he couldn’t, given his position) everybody stared in shock; just stared, did nothing. He felt Reynolds’ fist connect with Alex’s chin, making his jaw painfully jerk upwards, the sound of his teeth clasping making everybody shiver. He felt another kick to his lower gut and his whole body jerked in pain, turning to the side and trying to wrap himself into a fetal position. Another hit to his face, this time below the eye. He yelped, a blood curdling cry that only then seemed to reach the people around him; or rather, one man.

As Alex kept his eyes shut the whole time, he only felt somebody kicking Reynolds off of him. He was relieved, but as the shock factor wore down, the pain began pulsing through him, making tears gather in the corners of his eyes, where he tried to keep them from rolling down his cheeks for a while – he gave in then, feeling how they burn as they travel across the torn skin on his right cheek.

Suddenly there were two large hands grabbing him; or no, rather just being gently put on his shoulders. Somebody shook him, but only lightly, only to grab his attention. “-xander? Alexander? Can you hear us?” the sound was fading and his vision got blurrier every passing second. The last thing he remembers is being pulled up into somebody’s arms, bridal style, and being carried away. He knows that they have reached somebody’s room, although he still couldn’t tell who even was it that carried him. Just random blotches of purple all around it, mixing with other grey and white shapes. Then, he passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What'd you think of this? I think it can build up to a rather nice plot twist, although I am having doubts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lafayette know's what's up, Reynolds gets busted, John is very upfront, Alex takes a trip down memory lane and Thomas... Thomas comes to all the wrong conclusions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing fluffy or angsty happens here. It's more of a chapter that separates two main parts of the story.

Alexander woke up to dull pain on the back of his head. His eyes weakly fluttered open, and even though his vision was blurry, he could discern that he was in a dorm, and that there were about 8 people around them. He could also tell that he was somewhere comfortable, cradled in somebody’s arms, but he couldn’t quite figure it out.

He coughed, drawing everybody’s attention. “Alexander!” he heard Lafayette, thick French accent giving him away instantly. He saw the man stand up from the bed he sat on, on the opposite side of the room, and crouch on the floor in front of him. He let Laf grab his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “How do you feel, mon petit lion?”

His throat hurt as he spoke, and his voice sounded raspy, “My whole body hurts but-but I think I’ll be alright,” Alex said, nodding once, not sure whether it was for Laf or to convince himself that he was okay. And only then it dawned on him that he still wasn’t sure who held him; whoever it was, the person was silent the whole time, and he looked up.

“Jefferson?” the disbelief was evident in his voice. Due to the man’s darker complexion, you usually wouldn’t be able to quite tell whether he was blushing, but being only couple of inches away from the man’s face did the trick. He looked away towards the small window on the left, trying to hide that fact. Laf huffed a laugh but directed his gaze at Alex. “Mon tigre insisted that he should, how did he say? – hold you, _for safety purposes._ ”

“Not helping, Gilbert,” Jefferson said, irritation dripping in his voice as he stared intently at Lafayette, who only snickered. Angelica interrupted, “Alexander, what happened? I mean, we know the obvious, you fought with Reynolds – but we didn’t think it would be literal.”

“Not time for jokes, Angie,” Eliza muttered, but Angelica only shot her a look that said ‘oh, please, he knows what he did’.

“I-I did something… I slept with Maria,” Alex started, which made Eliza arch an elegant brow and look at him. She said, “That’s the reason? But they ended that catastrophe of a relationship, like a month ago? Well, to my knowledge.”  
“What? No, no. Here’s how the story goes… in short; basically, Maria came up to me in the hallway, we had sex and then one day later, Reynolds came to threaten me,” he decided to keep it to himself the nature of the said threats, “and then I challenged him to a public debate. Quite simple. And when I was winning, he lost it,” Alex added, “Where is he now, besides?”

“Burr called the police and he’s been taken in a charged with assault. There’s already rumors that he will be suspended for a month,” Peggy explained. Some of them nodded in confirmation.

“Okay, but can we go back to the fact that Reynolds fucking threatened him? Like, that’s not normal. Alex, who else was involved?” Asked Laurens, already clenching his fists on the edge of the bed, his facial expression representing nothing short of ‘bloody murder’. In some circumstances, they would find it hilarious, or even cute. It was common knowledge that Laurens was protective over Alex, every little negative thing that happens to the immigrant riling him up. Now it wasn’t fun and games.

“Uh, Lee and Monroe were with him when he did that. But I saw Seabury and Conway in the crowd as well; though I wouldn’t want to assume that they had anything to do with that.”

“Like hell. I don’t trust Seabury nor Conway,” Laurens muttered, “they had to have their paws in this somehow.”

This time it was Thomas who spoke up, “Actually, I wouldn’t pin this on Seabury. The man is a pansy, he wouldn’t dare. Besides, I bet he was spending time kissing King’s shoes while that went down,” Madison, Hercules and Lafayette snorted at that, and Eliza had to cover her mouth with her hand not to do the same. Angelica rolled her eyes and Peggy stayed unfazed.

“Okay, can _I_ ask some questions now?” Alex said, agitation in his voice as clear as day. They nodded, and he went on, “How did I get here? I don’t remember anything.”

“I carried you up,” Madison explained, much to Alex’s wonder. Madison? “and I fought off uh, Reynolds, after nobody else would.”

“Shit, Maddie, thanks. Did you hurt yourself?”

“One, call me ‘Maddie’ one more time and I will regret what I did. And two, no. It wasn’t hard to throw Reynolds off balance, and you’re so scrawny that I could have easily carried you up with one hand. Don’t underestimate me,” Madison said, eliciting a few laughs at how dead serious he looked.

“Okay, okay. Thanks, though,” Alex said and nodded.

“But it was cher Thomas who insisted to tend to you like a baby. Or perhaps, a lover,” Lafayette remarked, now making Alexander blush as well, and tried to push himself down from Thomas’ lap.

He fell down on the bed next to the Virginian, still painfully close and pressed up against the man’s side.

“Gilbert I swear to everything that’s sacred to you, I will -”

“Oh, hush it, Tommy, don’t get so butthurt,” Angelica laughed, “Laf was just joking,” and then Lafayette stood up from where he crouched and sauntered over to Thomas’ and Madison’s kitchenette to grab a bottle of water for Alex. He handed it over and watched the man take a sew sips.

*~*

After limping off to his room, with Lauren’s aid, the two best friends nestled on top of Alex’s bed, demanding to stay alone. Alex settled in between John’s legs with his back on the other man’s front, and Laurens kept his hands busy by threading them through Alex’s silky strands.

“So what’s your deal with Jefferson?”

“Pardon me?”

“You know, the tension and all.”

“There’s no tension, I don’t what you’re talking about,” Alex said, crossing his arms.

“Please, Hamilton, don’t you dare tell me that you don’t totally have the hots for him. I mean look at him; he’s an ass, but he _does_ have a _great_ ass.”

“Jesus, John.”

“It’s not that I’m shaming. I wouldn’t mind hooking up with him.”

“Oh, now _you_ want him?”

“Eh, I don’t want him. Just his cock.”

Alex fucking screeched at that, turning around and then yelping because it caused a sharp sting on his hip, where the largest wound was.

“Don’t deny.”

“I will mount my defense!”

“ _I bet that it’s not the only thing you’d like to mount,”_ John said under his breath, resulting in Alex swatting him in the shoulder, and John laughed at that. He didn’t particularly listen anything else, using his arms as a pillow, as the immigrant now faced him, practically straddling him, and poke his chest with his finger as if to punctuate every point he made, waving his hands in the air.

After about ten or so minutes of that, he calmed down and kind of slumped down on John, passing out.

*~*

The following morning wasn’t much better either. Every little move hurt like a bitch, he could barely eat and drink because of his slightly dislocated jaw, bruises started to bloom all over his body and he generally looked like a sight from a horror film. He won’t be attending classes for a week, and his friends will be taking care of him in shifts.

Showering was something he never thought he will struggle with. Eliza offered to help him with that, and he wore his swimming Bermudas first two times, because of course it was awkward as hell.

Hercules acted like his mother hen, even more so than usual, checking whether he feeds and hydrates himself. Thomas was even kind enough to come to his dorm so they could continue working. Then there was the dilemma about how will they present this, because Reynolds was obviously out of the picture, and they had to have it all done this week. Which was essentially mission impossible. Thomas would stay at his place until ungodly hours of night (or morning, depends on how you look at it) both of them adamant to make this as soon as possible, and make it as good as possible. The deadline was Monday of the next week.

He spent his night stalking people on social media. Nobody uses Facebook anymore (well, nobody he knows of) but if you have information about your friend’s (or enemy’s, depends on what kind of person you are) account, you can find some gold nuggets, just waiting to be found.

First profile he dug up was John Laurens’. His friend hadn’t changed all that much, to be honest. He just grew a little and can now legally drink alcohol, as oppose to all the pictures he has where he’s getting wasted in high school.

He can’t believe he hadn’t done this before.

Next up was Hercules. He surprisingly hadn’t changed that much. Most of the pictures were him in a suit and glasses, holding some kind of certificate, diploma, or a trophy, and he was at some kind of a tournament. He found some ancient ones where Herc still played basketball, so that was funny to look at. He dares to say that Herc looked lanky and scrawny, practically swimming in his basketball jersey.

Lafayette, he learned, had the same taste for photography as he still does. Just a bunch of artsy photos, an occasional group one and couple of him and Adrienne.

And what does he spy with his little eye… Could that be Jefferson’s profile?

Oh, yes.

What a gem indeed.

He didn’t care about newest stuff (and also found it comical that Thomas still uses Facebook, seeing that his last activity was a week ago) and went on to check out the posts from few years back.

Just as he remembers him – untamable afro, glasses slightly too large for his face and… braces? When did he get those? It looked comical on him. In the comments on one picture, Madison commented ‘metal mouth’ to which Thomas childishly countered with ‘four eyes’ (Suppose Madison wore glasses back then as well) and then they proceeded to have a not really heated argument in the replies. Somewhere in between, he spotted another familiar face – Dolley!

Jesus, he hasn’t heard of her in ages. He clicked on her profile.

Her last activity was a month ago, which was good – it meant that all the pictures were recent. She looked gorgeous, all grown up. Her hair was cut from the long mane, as she liked to joke, to a fairly cute pixie cut. She has a husband and a girlfriend, a polyamory from the looks of it. The girl has caramel skin and dark hair, is slightly shorter than her and absolutely stunning. The man in the picture had tanned skin and long hair. In the said picture, they were at a beach. There was a sunset in the background. Alex was very happy with her.

He stalked her ‘Friends’ list and found something he thought he’d never run into.

‘Alexis Hamilton’

He needed a moment to compose himself before he gathered the courage to click on his old profile. There was a lot of shitposting, you can imagine, but ignoring all of that, he went on pictures again. He usually didn’t do pictures of himself, but there was one with Laurens on their first day of junior year in high school, just about when he was 2 months into his transition. His hair was short, and men’s clothing still looked funky on his hips, but he could pass and at the time, it was the only thing that mattered. He scrolled down, where he saw a bunch of him and Thomas. He didn’t even remember posting those.

Because he didn’t and he was tagged by _Thomas_ in all of them, resulting in them being saved in ‘Pictures of me’. They kissed in some, though most was the two of them sitting on a bench or standing in front of some beautiful landscape and holding hands, or hugging. However he disliked seeing himself pre-transition, he’d pay good money to see how Thomas used to look (which was absolutely adorable).

He glanced at the clock, and seeing it was already about 2 a.m., he just shut his laptop and turned around in bed to sleep.

*~*

Incessant knocking was initially what woke him up, but the person at his door has already walked in by the time he sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to forcefully get them to focus.

“Jesus fucking Christ -” he looked at the tall figure, “- Jefferson? The hell are you doing here?”

“Don’t you remember I said that I’ll come by? We still didn’t get our work done and it’s already Friday. We have three more days, Hamilton.”

“Oh,” he was right, “okay.” He observed as Thomas sat down and took out his own laptop and papers. After glancing at Alex and seeing how utterly wrecked and unable to do anything he looks, he rolled his eyes and grabbed the immigrant’s laptop that was on the floor.

*~*

Thomas didn’t expect anything special when he took the device and flipped it open, but his ex girlfriend’s Facebook page surely wasn’t one of them. Alexis Hamilton, the hell did Alexander had to do with her? His blind guess was that he was looking up his own profile and that she popped up, because their names were ridiculously similar. Maybe he just wanted to sniff around.

He dismissed his thoughts and closed Chrome, and went on to search through Hamilton’s notes in the documents. Upon finding what he needed, he handed the device back to the man that seemed more conscious now and went on to comment, “If you wouldn’t deprive yourself of sleep, maybe you wouldn’t have problems getting up at 8.”  
“What?!”

“What _what_?”

“It’s 8 in the morning? You had the gall to wake me up at _8 in the morning?_ ” the man swatted Thomas with a pillow and murmured something that Thomas couldn’t understand, but cooperated as they worked.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She is back again with some flaming fluff.
> 
> Hey y'all!   
> This is probably the shortest chapter ever, barely 5 pages, I know - I'm sorry. There's a reason, though. I'm going to a vacation by the seaside in 6 hours, and I haven't really had the time to write, packing and all. I'll come back by 21st of July, and until then, there will probably be no daily updates as usual, because there is no wi-fi in my apartment, and if I wanted to post, I'd have to go to the city center, which is 2 kilometers away from where I'm staying.... So sorry about that. But I won't stop writing and I'll try catching any opportunity I can to post. Thanks for understanding.

Alexander has spent the entirety of his Saturday in his dorm. Laf, Herc and Laurens paid a visit to him once, before having to tend to their own affairs, and even Angelica came by. He’s found out a couple of things; Maria is nowhere to be found, and Reynolds is sentenced to seven days in jail for assault. Conway, Monroe, Lee and Seabury had some kind of an argument and now their group has fractured into smaller ones. Conway and Monroe are still like a finger and a nail, basically glued together. Lee has found refuge in Burr’s company, admittedly a little odd. Seabury is by himself again, although out of all four of them, he’s the only one who doesn’t seem to mind. Rumor has it that he’s been spending too much time with George King, but nobody knows anything more than that.

He doesn’t know what time it is right now, but he’s about 60% sure that it’s Sunday, and that it’s still morning. He’s comfortably cocooned into the small nest of pillows, blankets and duvet in the corner of his bed, right next to the wall. He can vaguely hear footsteps in the hallway, somebody running through, and it makes him wonder who it may be, because whoever they are, they’re heading towards his dorm. He makes an effort to raise his head and look at the door that was now beginning to open.

The sight of a panting Thomas Jefferson wasn’t even in his Top 10 People Who Might Be Running Towards My Dorm And I Don’t Know Why.

Needless to say, he was surprised, “Jefferson? What are you doing here? We weren’t supposed to be working today, have we? ‘Cause shit, I totally forgot -”

“Calm your tits, Hamilton,” ouch, “I came here because Gilbert kept complaining about your moping all day.”

“I wasn’t ‘moping’. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alexander tried to defend himself, although he wouldn’t even believe himself.

Thomas cocked an eyebrow, “So that is why you look like one of those Omegas in distress from Alpha/Omega verse? Nesting and all?”

“I do not! I’d be at least a Beta if I were in that universe. Thank you very much.”

“Sure you would, darlin’. Anyhow, get ready, we’re going on an adventure.”

“An adventure? Now, I don’t imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner,” Alexander said thoughtfully, eyeing Thomas.

“Don’t you cite Bilbo Baggins to me, you fool,” Thomas huffed a laugh before closing the door and skimmed around the room, “Why don’t you let some light inside here? Actually on the second thought, you quoting Hobbit might be accurate. You do live like one, in a small, messy, enclosed space, rid of light.”

“That’s where you are wrong, Thomas. Because _‘_ _In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort’_ , which means that your accusation in invalid, because if this were a hobbit-hole, it would be tidy and without a speck of dirt,” Alexander said, now unwillingly rising from the bed, noticeably still in his yesterday’ sweats and t-shirt, and sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You are an insufferable book nerd, you know that?” Thomas shook his head fondly.

“So I’ve been told,” Alex flashed a smile, before Thomas walked up to him and (gently) pulled him to his feet. When Alex made no effort to move, Thomas rolled his eyes and said, “If you don’t change right this second, I swear to God I will do it for you.”

Which made Alexander slightly panic and nod frantically, before strolling towards his closet and picking up a clean pair of black sweatpants and a baggy grey shirt, and going towards the bathroom to do as he was told. Meanwhile Thomas sat down on his bed and waited.

*~*

Alexander took in total about fifteen minutes to get ready. He had to tie is hair in a bun because it is greasier than Monroe.

He was kind of dumbfounded when Thomas just sauntered into his room like it was nothing, like they were buddies or something, and he has half a mind that Angelica made him do it, but hey, he wasn’t about to complain here.

They drove in Thomas’ very fancy pickup truck to what actually seemed like other end of New York, where they parked. Thomas was very secretive about where they were headed, and avoided Alexander’s questions, until…

Until Alex saw the Ferris wheel peaking behind a building and as they walked closer, the music became louder.

“You brought me to a theme park?”

“Yea, I did,” Thomas said, a playful smirk on his lips, “happy?”

“Hell yea! I’ve never been,” Alexander admitted, eyes glued to the colorful lights in front of them.

“You’ve never been to Coney Island?”

“No, I’ve never been to a theme park.” Thomas looked slightly astonished, though didn’t question much, after Alex explained that ‘he just didn’t have time’, though he suspected that there was much more to it and he wasn’t about to question it.

*~*

They’ve tried just about everything by now, except the said Ferris wheel. They walked up to it and got up on it. Thomas watched Alexander look around as if it was the best, most magnificent thing in the world. And perhaps it was, as Thomas couldn’t keep his excitement at bay either.

The sun was beginning to set by the time they made their fifth circle up to the top of the wheel. Alexander couldn’t help but gape, much to Thomas’ entertainment. Thomas draped his hand across the back of the small booth they sat in.

*~*

Alexander high-key panicked. Suddenly he felt really conscious about their situation.

He’s in a theme park with Thomas. He’s laughing with Thomas, and having a good time with Thomas. Thomas’ arm is really, really close to him, and he has a strong urge to lean back and rest his head on it. He almost slapped himself.

But this is probably his only a one-time opportunity, and he took a leap of faith, his heard slamming in his chest, leaning back. He felt Thomas tense next to him, but then there was a breath of relief and both of them were relaxed.

As they were ‘having a moment’ they heard a loud metal screech and then the wheel haltered to a stop. Thomas jerked suddenly and looked down. There was a crowd of people down there, and one men carried a megaphone, “Everyone please calm down. We are having some technical difficulties.”

“Well this is just great,” Alexander murmured, and Thomas looked at him. Alex pulled his feet up so that he could rest his head on his knees, as he attempted not to look down. Which didn’t escape Thomas, as he wordlessly dragged Alexander closer towards himself.

“You okay, hobbit?”

“Nope, not really, at all, whatsoever,” he babbled.

“Fear of heights? You could have said, we didn’t have to go on this ride at all -”

“No, it’s not that. It’s more so fear of being stuck in small spaces. Like elevators.”

“Oh,” Thomas said intelligently.

*~*

Thomas had to admit that their situation was more than a little odd. Just his luck that he gets stuck of a Ferris wheel with the most annoying person in the world. But he felt sorry for the pipsqueak and just kind of… did what he thought Gilbert would do.

Also, fuck Gilbert and Angelica for making him do this. Who knows when will he be able to get down from this machine.

*~*

Turns out, they aren’t gonna be freed anytime soon,

They’ve been up there for an hour now, and nobody is literally doing shit.

Hamilton became drowsy, and probably subconsciously snuggled into Thomas’ side. Thomas let out a small growl, but it came out more like a rumble, and it didn’t seem to upset Hamilton, or give him any kind of a hint.

*~*

It’s been five fucking hours. Thomas is losing his mind. He’s hungry, and thirsty, and had to be home like three hours ago, they had a project to work on and this wheel is still stuck. The reporters are down there at this point, and they managed to evacuate some people in the lower cabins.

Hamilton was draped across his lap, and Thomas didn’t know how to feel about this. He’s been absentmindedly running his fingers through Hamilton hair, maybe because it actually made the man shut up, maybe because it gave him something to do, since his phone died a long time ago.

He felt a droplet of rain fall on his cheek and hissed a cuss. He was about to pull the hood of his jacket over his head, before he saw Alex stir awake from his half-sleep. He heard the immigrant mutter ‘shit’ under his breath, and he felt kind of sorry for him, for some reason. He made a decision of taking off his jacket and hand it over to Hamilton.

“What are you doing?” the man, who by now wiggled out of his lap, asked, eyeing him with suspicion.

“Giving you my jacket, you idiot,” Thomas snorted, but there was no bite behind the insult, “you are tiny and scrawny, you’ll get sick.”

“Oh… thanks,” he said and put it on, covering his head, and that’s when Thomas realized that he was shivering. Without thinking, again, he pulled him towards himself and settled him between his legs. Hamilton didn’t mind apparently even as he wrapped his arms around the small man. His hair was about to be ruined, but that was the least of his worries. Angelica will strangle him if anything happens to Hamilton, Lord knows why is she so protective of him.

*~*

About twenty or so minutes later, the wheel finally started. They were ‘freed’ and wordlessly came back to the campus.

Thomas stopped in front of his dorm, not saying anything to Hamilton, but suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, and he turned around, to shortly face Hamilton, before the man hugged him tightly, his face in Thomas’ chest. He didn’t know what to do, but eventually hugged back. It lasted for a while, and Thomas kind of didn’t want to let go. Hamilton was warm and cozy and totally huggable. Which was hard to admit to himself, but whatever.

“D’you want to come over?” suddenly Hamilton asked, and when Thomas raised his eyebrows, he clarified, “to hang out, not like… fuck.”

“Sure, sure,” he nodded and followed Hamilton to the end of the hallway. They walked into his room and Hamilton proceeded to crawl back into his nest. Thomas eyed him suspiciously but he was tired, and it was late, and he wasn’t about to turn down warm spot and a person to cuddle with.

 _Cuddle?_ Sure.

He’ll hate himself for that later (we all know he won’t).

He got in after Hamilton and laid so that his back was halfway against the wall. Hamilton curled at his side, head on his tight, and Thomas’ hand found it’s way back to the man’s hair. Hamilton let out a sound that could closely be described like purring. He pushed closer to Thomas’ hand, and the Virginian snorted, “You’re like a cat.”

“Sure,” Hamilton laughed, and it was probably the most pleasing, pure sound Thomas has ever heard. This was very fucking weird.

But it’s fine, he’ll regret it in the morning. He’s sleepy now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oops my hand slipped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!!! Though still on vacation. You know how hard was it to catch a little bit of wi-fi signal? *shudders*
> 
> Anyways, this is only 2.5k words (5 pages) because I had little time to write while I was in the city, because yeah, I only get internet down there. B u t I am pretty happy with how this turned out. Bear with me, the real plot twists start here.

Alexander woke up to fingers threading through his hair, trailing down his back and then up again. He loved the feeling and dared not to move, because he didn’t want the sensation to stop. After about five minutes of pretending to be asleep, he realized _who_ exactly was the person doing it.

“Morning, sleeping beau- well, that name’s debatable,” Jefferson remarked, his tone playful and the insult had no real bite behind it. He gazed at him serenely as Alex slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes, stretching and yawning. He turned around and arched his eyebrows at the man, “What time is it?”

“7:30,” said Thomas casually, not making any effort to get up from Alexander’s ~~bed~~ nest.

 _Who rational wakes up that early, for God’s sake? Oh, yeah, we’re talking about Jefferson here,_ Alex thought to himself and said, “Do y’all southerners wake up at ass o’clock in the morning, or are you one of a kind?” he deadpanned.

Jefferson snorted at him and swatted him with a pillow, slowly getting up, “I need coffee. Do you have coffee?”

“Not at the moment,” Alex responded, on his feet already, digging through his drawers to change.

“Useless,” Jefferson sighed, “Whatever. Get dressed, I’m taking you out.”

_Like a date?_

“If you want it to be,” Jefferson said, sounding almost indifferent to Alex’s question. And _what?_ Did he say that out loud? Lord have mercy on his soul. He cringed at himself. He took out a green sweater and another pair of jeans, these ones looking much more presentable than usual. It’s one of his fancier, special occasion reserved ones. He attempted to save his ass, “I’m asking because – like – this is the second time you’ve taken me out in two days. What can I say, I’m honored,” he said sarcastically, though he wouldn't admit that it might’ve made him feel excited, and a tad bit nervous.

“Why, Mr. Hamilton, I hope you’re not surprised that I can make a man feel special,” Jefferson said ironically, batting his eyelashes and placing a hand on his chest. Alex snorted at him.

Suddenly he low-key panicked because he had to change clothes, in front of Jefferson. He can’t make an excuse why might he want to go change into the bathroom, because that would be way too weird. He supposes he will strategically have to turn around, avoid exposing too much unwanted skin (as in, his chest) and toughen up. _Be a man_ about it.

He saw Jefferson striding over to his desk, assuming that maybe he’d give Alex some privacy. He had to have enough decency for that, at least. Alex turned around towards his dresser regardless, taking off his shirt in one swift movement and shuddering as the chilly air in the room came in contact with his skin. He pulled on the sweater and was quick to get out of the old sweatpants, struggling a little to pull them on. He thought about changing his boxers, but decided that hygiene can wait until he’s in private. He winced as the tight jeans pressed against the cuts and bruises on his tights, an unpleasant reminder of James Reynolds. He shivered only at the thought of the blonde man. Alex chased away the thought as quickly as it came, turning around towards Jefferson again, pulling on his socks. He was relieved when he saw that the man was sitting on the chair, his face directed towards the phone. “You have the first class the same time as I do, right?”

“Yeah. Poli-sci with Jay. We have to present to project today,” Alex confirmed.

“You sure you’ll be able to?” worry in Jefferson’s voice was evident, and more than little confusing to Alexander. Did Jefferson really care? He must’ve, otherwise he wouldn’t be here, right?

“Of course.”

He nodded, “’Kay, you ready?”

“Yup,” he slightly popped the ‘p’ and just like that, they made their way out of the dorm, towards Dave’s. The hallways were surprisingly buzzing for this time of day.

*~*

The breakfast and coffee went well. Alex was, to be poetic, lost in Jefferson’s eyes the whole time. Because he’s weak. Now that that was out of the way, they both went to their dorms to prepare for the aforementioned presentation.

Alex was never shy when it came to public speeches. He was quick to always charm the audience and get their undivided attention, make them truly interested in what he was saying regardless if the topic on a separate occasion might not be interesting to some. He would throw in couple of jokes, couple of witty comments, and he’d get the job done.

*~*

Thomas, on the other hand… he hated public speaking. Debating was something else; there was a special kind of satisfaction watching your opponent crumble, get lost in his own words because you and them both know that you’re right, and from then, it’s only a matter of time when would they surrender. When it came to those kinds of debates with Alexander, he derived special kind of pleasure roasting and destroying him. But presenting something? It made him endlessly anxious. He may be charismatic, but all that didn’t matter when he could barely make the words leave his mouth. He had to prepare what he’ll say every time days before the deadline, word for word, so he doesn’t miss anything, forget, or stutter.

Which is exactly why he’s panicking right now. He has been dealing with so much lately, he completely forgot about that ‘tiny’ detail. He’s sitting on his bed, laptop in front of him, one hand on the mouse pad, one in his mouth, as he frantically bit his nails. It was not a good thing to do, a nasty habit he barely got rid of in high school. It was a coping mechanism, something he needed right now, as he skimmed through endless pages of writing, a ‘summary’ and the end result of their research that Hamilton sent him the other day. His eyes didn’t stop on a single word for enough time for him to focus on it properly, and what he was doing was not productive at all.

He heard James yawn on the other side of the room, thereby grabbing his attention, making Thomas look at his friend. At first, James didn’t notice that anything was terribly off, only when he put on his glasses did he noticed what a mess Thomas was. “Morning. You… okay?”

“What does it look like?” Thomas snapped. He really didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t really stay calm right now.

James nodded and got up, slowly making his way towards Thomas and sitting on the bed next to him. He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and Thomas did really calm down a little. He took a single deep breath, “How am I supposed to do this, James?” he whined.

“What – the presentation? I doubt you’ll have much trouble. I know you hate doing public speeches, but I also know you’ll do great today. You’re confident and strong-minded, there’s nothing stopping you, but yourself. You have to overcome that, y’know?”

Thomas sighed, “Yeah, yeah,” and with that, James took off towards the kitchen, making himself something to eat. Thomas scrolled all the way up to the top of the eleven pages and went over it properly.

*~*

‘ _What the fuck is this in the fifth paragraph, page 3, supposed to be?’_ Alex read the text from Jefferson. He groaned audibly. So much about their date, if they’re back to old habits and bickering in less than an hour after that.

‘ _I thought that you might not understand that part. Maybe I should cover it.’_

‘ _You know damn well that it is unnecessary repetition of page 1.’_

He fired back, _‘You know_ _damn well_ _that paragraph 8 of page 4 wouldn't make any sense without that.’_

‘ _We don’t need paragraph 8 of page 4.’_

‘ _Says you.’_

‘ _Who else?’_

‘ _Bite me.’_

‘ _Where?’_

Alex stopped breathing. What… what was this? What did it mean? For his own good, he tried not to read too much into it and ignore it, try not to look at it as blatant flirtation (which is precisely what it was), and he wrote back.

‘ _Just learn your parts and I’ll do mine. We have to make this good,’_ and for the good measure he added, _‘Moron.’_

*~*

He was on his way to class, Peggy right by his side as they chatted casually. Alex usually wasn’t the one for small talk, but she was special. As they progressed through the busy halls, they saw a small group of what seemed to be high school students. Alex smiled; they reminded him of himself when he was about their age, ready to graduate, visiting Princeton, wide eyed and beyond excited. Among them was one easily noticeable student, more accurately, because of his short statue (although he was still couple of inches taller than Alexander’s unimpressive 5’4. Maybe 5’7). He was a freckled boy with curly, soft brown hair and big eyes. He was in front of the group, looking around as if he came to the most amazing, most interesting place in the whole wide world. In his hand there was a pen, and under his other arm there was a notebook. It reminded Alexander of himself, because that is exactly how he looked on his first day. They stopped next to him and Peggy as they passed by, the boy accidentally bumping into Alex.

“Oh _shit_ , sorry – didn’t see you there,” he laughed awkwardly, helping Alexander up to his feet. Alex chuckled. “No problem, kiddo,” he waved his hand, a gesture that portrayed exactly what he said, “so, uh – you plan attending Princeton?”

“I am, actually,” the boy smiled brightly. Alex found it interesting that his voice was rather girly, or still cracking around some words, as if he just reached puberty. When he saw a binder peeking out on the neck opening of his dress shirt, he was safe to assume that he’s also transgender.

“I’m Alexander Hamilton. What’s your name?” he offered him his hand. The boy shook it, and answered, “My name is Philip Hayler, pleased to meet you, sir.”

Alex laughed, “Don’t be silly, I’m not nearly old enough to be a ‘sir’. You can call me Alex,” he smiled, adding, “You know, if you ever need some tutoring, or any information regarding Princeton, hit me up.”

“Wanna exchange numbers?”

“Sure!” Alex said and took his phone out of his pocket. Peggy face-palmed next to him, sighing loudly, but Alex couldn’t be bothered. Philip cited him his own number, and Alex sent him a text so he can save it to his phone. Then he explained that he has a class to tend to, lightly elbowed Peggy in the ribs after she said ‘oh, look who remembered’ and let Philip join his group.

“The hell was that?” she asked. Alex expected the question. He sighed and explained, “I figured that, since Philip is trans, just as I am, he might have a harder time here – just like I did – than other students. I think it might be good for him to have somebody like me help him go through all that.” Peggy looked dumbfounded, but realization was written all over her face. Suddenly, she looked sorry, as if for all the struggles Alex had when he started. But it was in the past now, and he didn’t bother discussing this topic any further. Finally, they reached class and both of them got to their seats. Alex saw Thomas and nodded towards him, acknowledging his presence, and Thomas repeated the action.

Jay got into class fairly soon. He didn’t stall, since 17 groups of students had to present their work in under 10 minutes, and they all probably won’t get to do it today, because of the lack of time. The first ones to do it were Maria, Franklin and Lincoln. They were pretty good as ice breakers, earning a loud applause once finished. There were three more groups before Jay read, loud and clear, “Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Hamilton. Mr. Reynolds won’t be joining them today, as you are probably aware.”

*~*

Alexander would lie if he said that he didn’t notice how tense and nervous Thomas was, how his hands were shaking and clutching the papers that he held in his hands. He didn’t look at the crowd; it was either the floor, walls, or the ceiling, his eyes darting about around the room. He looked like a frightened animal, a lamb perhaps. Alex knew that presentations weren’t the Virginian’s strong suit, but he never got to stand a meter away from Thomas and see what kind of effect exactly it has on him. Usually, he’d watch him from the his seat in the middle row, blissfully ignorant of the pressure the man feels. Maybe that was for the better, since Alex feels like shit for not noticing and perhaps talking to him about it, though it was quite late for that right now.

At last, they finished in seven minutes, earning loud ovations. They were pretty good, if he does say so himself (he says so). They didn’t even reach their seats when the bell rung. And just like that, hour and a half has passed. Alexander packed all his things into his bag, and apparently, Thomas has done it before him, since he stood at the beginning of the row, apparently waiting for him. Alex blushed, hoping Thomas will suspect that it is due to speaking in front of a mass of people, and not the warm feeling in his chest that he absolutely should _not_ be feeling right now. Yet he is. And let me tell you, he doesn’t regret it one bit. He always knew, since he first saw his Thomas’ face on campus, that he’ll inevitably fall for him again. It was only a matter of time.

But he accepts it, even though he knows that it’ll undoubtedly be unrequited. Still, even knowing this, he walked up to him, a grin on his face as he saw Thomas smiling. As they walked side by side, at some point, Thomas swung his hand around Alex’s shoulders. Maybe he shoulder be feeling so giddy about this, since they practically cuddled all night in his ~~bed~~ nest. But he does, and honestly, what the fuck ever. How does the saying go, you only live once, right?

He was deep in though, registering Thomas’ lips moving but not picking up what he was saying. Only when they stopped and Thomas looked at him expectantly he said, “Uh, what?”

“I said – wanna go grab something to eat?”

“ _Another_ date?” Alexander smirked at him, “My, my, if only I had known you were head over heels for me, I’d start using you for free food much, _much_ sooner,” this elicited a laugh from Thomas and a playful swat upside his head. It was worth it, though.

*~*

They ended up at Dave’s again, though Thomas didn’t mind. He liked the food there, and he could get always with free drinks. After they ate, admittedly, he had to force Alex to chose some kind of a sandwich, he ordered couple of rows of drinks. Beer, to be exact. He had no idea that Alex was a lightweight, and he had fun listening to him drunkenly ramble, until… well, until this happened.

“You know, I’d never thought you’d like me again.”

“Again?”

“You know, high school, _Alexis_ Hamilton? Didn’t figure this one out yet? I’m transgender.”

Thomas stood up and ran, not concerning himself with Alexander’s shouting, “Wait, shit- _wait!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love y'all who read this, you guys are amazing support. *insert endless heart eye emojis*


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nothing but angst, prepare dem paper tissues, i cried while writing this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS  
> \- A lot of people being sad  
> \- Alcohol abuse  
> \- Minor seuxal content, SPOILER ALERT SAYING WHO IT IS BETWEEN, STOP READING NOW IF YOU WANNA FIND OUT THROUGH THE BOOK OKAY Maria and Alex

_Alexander finished up his cheeseburger, wiping his mouth with a tissue, listening carefully as Thomas went on ranting about Seabury. That was always fun. He wasn’t half as bad as the others from that bunch, don’t get them wrong, but there was something about the ginger boy that made both of them distrust him, although he hasn’t done anything directly wrong to them._

_He was kind of excited when Thomas ordered them two beers. He didn’t tell him this, but Alex has never had alcohol once in his life. Maybe if he wasn’t in foster care, he would try it, but it was hard to smuggle a pack of cookies in your room after 9 p.m., not to mention a bottle of… something. Maybe if he wasn’t adopted in such a good family, maybe if he wasn’t afraid to disappoint them, he’d try it. Even so, he still wasn’t legally old enough to drink – his birthday is coming up in… nine months._

_A waitress, whose name he learned was Sally, brought them each one bottle. Thomas didn’t hesitate taking a chug, so Alexander, not to turn out a pansy, copied the action. He supposed that Thomas didn’t know about the whole situation with him never drinking – how could he? Off-note, Alex realized that Thomas didn’t know anything about his personal life, other that he was an immigrant from Nevis._

_Chug after chug, so did the first bottle go. Thomas ordered another round, and already a little tipsy, Alexander didn’t think twice before drinking the whole thing as if it were water, and he was in a desert. It seemed to amuse Thomas, although they didn’t go further than the third bottle. Maybe they would have, had Alex not blurt out, “You know, I never thought you’d like me again,” he chuckled to himself, playing with a half empty bottle in his hands._

“ _Again?” a smile was playing on Thomas’ lips. He must’ve thought that Alex was three sheets to the wind, gone already, rambling nonsense. And from another perspective, he was._

“ _You know, high school, Alexis Hamilton? Didn’t figure this one out yet? I’m transgender,” at first, he didn’t realize what he said. The only indicator that something was awfully wrong all of a sudden was the way Thomas’ whole body froze, the way his smile turned into a thin line, the way his eyebrows first rose and then knitted into a frown, or the way he clenched the napkin he held in one of his balled fists. The first thought that ran through his head after he saw all that was ‘oh, shit’ and then, Thomas was off. He got up and bolted away. “Wait, shit- wait!” he tried calling, but to no avail. The doors were swinging as Thomas already pushed them open forcefully, the last of his disappearing through, into the night._

*~*

Thomas locked himself into a shower stall, not coming out in hours. He knows he’ll at some point have to do it and get back into his room, face James and the millions of questions that his friend will pose him, which he was definitely not ready for. So, he opted on sulking in a small cabin, on damp tiles, with his legs to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, and his head resting in the crease between his knees.

He truly didn’t know what to think of this. He never expected this. This couldn’t be true, there was no possible way.

Except it was. And somewhere deep down he knows it, but he refuses to believe.

Hamilton has been Alexis – _his_ Alexis – all this time?

It was Hamilton’s lips he once kissed, it was Hamilton’s smile he used to cherish, it was Hamilton he used to love to hold, it was his body he loved to map out with his hands.

It was _Hamilton_ he used to _love_.

And it was Hamilton who was taken away from him.

 _But,_ it was also Hamilton who kept Thomas in the dark about his existence for all his years.

He never really stopped missing Alexis – Alex? – Alexander? – well, at least not until he got into college. Admittedly, it wasn’t hard once he began making friends, or sleeping with people. He wasn’t exactly the type of guy to sleep around that much, but hey, an occasional hookup benefited him, and his partner, so what was the harm in that?

Although, it was very hard to forgive Hamilton for letting him be miserable for the rest of high school. Yes, he knew that foster care didn’t allow cellphones, but they _had_ to have community phones. He knew that Hamilton knew his (old) number by heart. Even so, if he was to call him ten years later, if Thomas maybe already had a spouse and kids by that time, and pets, and a house in the country with a white picket fence, and couple of horses – he would have been beyond relieved that at least that weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

Worse yet, he started to feel _things_. Right now. Well, besides unadulterated loathing, and gut wrenching anger, there was something blooming deep down in his chest, something he dares not name, and theretofore chose to ignore.

*~*

Alexander staggered home, barely able to hold himself up, tripping every two steps he takes, having come so low that he has to use trash cans as support. He threw up once or twice in a bush next to the pavement, luckily nobody has seen him – or actually, he _hopes_ nobody did. In any case, he hasn’t heard anyone comment anything, so that was good.

He still wasn’t able to think clearly, only having a very vague idea in his mind about what exactly has he said wrong, where he messed up, but no clue how to fix it. Even if he did, perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to rely on his hammered brain to make good life choices; about twenty minutes ago he has proven it to himself, Thomas, and probably half of the current population of Dave’s Diner.

Somehow he reached the dorm building, managing not to wake everybody up. He was about to reach the door handle, when he just blacked out and fell down to the floor with a dull thud.

*~*

Thomas hadn’t realized that he fell asleep in the stall. Well, so much about going back to his dorm. He somehow lifted himself up to his feet, his head hurting, but surprisingly not too bad. There was dull, pulsating pain in the back of his head, but that was about it. He thinks it’ll not be too much of an obstacle in his every day activities and classes.

His whole body was hurting as he held himself up on the wall, mainly because he fell asleep in an odd position, on a hard surface, he was bound to ache. As of right now, he was aching in more ways than one, although he tried not to think about ti too much.

As he walked out and looked around, he was met with an unexpected (actually, was it really unexpected?) sight. Hamilton, sprawled out on the floor in front of his room, on his back, his limbs scattered about everywhere, hair across his face, intertwined. His first instinct was to try and get him inside the room, but the moment he took one step forward in Hamilton’s direction, his mind rewound, bringing him back to the events of the past night. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, his frown deepening as he looked at the liar on the floor. He thought about texting Gilbert, but it was 5:03 a.m. and yes, he’s mad at Hamilton, but he isn’t cruel. He’ll just drag him into his dorm; he isn’t about to leave him passed out, hungover, lying limply in the hallway, out there for anybody to see. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, to calm himself down, and walked up towards him.

He lightly kicked him with his foot, to check if he’s alive. Hamilton grunted in response, still sleeping, so at least that was out of the way. He pushed him away from the door in the same way. He opened the door, of course the bastard left them open all the time, and then lifted Hamilton up by locking his arms around the man’s waist, almost effortlessly. Hamilton’s feet were still dragging on the floor, and at some point, the man woke up to the state of half-consciousness. The first thing he murmured was, “What the fuck is wrong with my head?” and then, “T-Thomas? Is that you?” which Thomas promptly ignored. As he practically threw him on the bed, Hamilton still clung to his arm, “Thomas, wait p-please -”

“Get the fuck _away_ from me!” Thomas snarled, violently snatching his arm away, hitting Hamilton in the face with it by accident. Later on, he’ll be sorry. He’ll think that he should have apologized, he knows it. But as of right now, he couldn’t care less about Hamilton’s well being. _But that isn’t true now, is it? Because you took the time and effort bringing him to the safety of his room,_ his subconscious said, but he elected to ignore it. And when he saw the sheer terror and utter regret on the immigrant’s face, his gaze didn’t soften. He just rushed out of the room, similarly as he did just yesterday, out of the Diner.

He didn’t look back twice, only fished his phone out of his pocket and texted Gilbert, ‘You might wanna check up on Hamilton.’ He got the response, some form of ‘why’ but he didn’t have the strength to respond. Bye the time he got back to his dorm, it was almost 6 o’clock. He’ll ditch today. He really isn’t mentally prepared for classes.

*~*

Alexander’s throat was on fire, his knees were hurting and he felt utterly dead inside. His friends still couldn’t get him to tell them what happened, although that issue has been put aside, as he was right now barfing in the toilet, Laf holding his hair up, shaking his head slightly in disapproval. Herc and John were waiting in the room, already having prepared a glass of water and an aspirin. There was a new bruise blooming on the right side of his face, barely visible but still there, right under his eye, from where Thomas’ arm got in contact with his face.

_The injury itself didn’t hurt as much as knowing what cause it did._

Laf clicked with his tongue, “Mon ami, what have you exactly been up to yesterday?”

In one of the short pauses between the waves, Alex managed, “Nothing important, I already told you. Went out, got d-drunk, and passed out.”

Even though he couldn’t see his face, Alex knew that the Frenchman wasn’t happy with the answer, but regardless, didn’t press for information any further.

*~*

After a longer period of time, he finally began to feel alright and got out of the bathroom. He looked like a zombie, pale, barely holding himself up on his feet, almost lifelessly falling onto the bed.

“Alexander, cher, wanna get changed, shower, and maybe then we can talk properly?” Laf tried, rubbing circled on Alex’s back with his palm. Alex weakly nodded, because he didn’t have the will or power to do anything else, and then he was gently pulled up to his feet by John. He didn’t mind John undressing him, or assisting him in the shower. They were well past that stage; John has been the one helping him with all that since high school.

So, since his own bathroom was plagued by the odor of the vomit, they had to take a risky route to the community showers. They both got in one of the stalls, and John laid the towels he brought, and extra clothes, on a small shelf. Alex just stood there as John began to take his shirt off, then progressing to his pants and underwear. He turned on the shower, adjusting the water temperature and then brought the nozzle to Alex’s shoulders, then back, chest, legs, and arms. He grabbed a shampoo and squirted a little on his open palm, and then rubbed it all over Alexander, carefully handling the area around his inner tights, hips, and abdomen. He let Alex dry himself with the towel and put his clothes on, before going back to his room again. Laf and Herc were still there, adamant on not letting Alex be alone for too long.

*~*

One week has gone by already. Alex has seen only glimpses of Thomas, and when they were in the same room, they didn’t look at each other at all. Well, Alex tried but Thomas would always avert his gaze. He sent a text on Wednesday, saying _‘I’m sorry’_ and Thomas’ response was _‘Piss of. Lose my number.’_ He didn’t even engage in debates with him anymore, he didn’t insult him. Alexander hated it. He’d have Thomas hate him and bring him down, rather than not have him in his life at all. It felt like he disappeared.

He was in a bar with Maria. They were both ranting about their lives, bitterly laughing at things that weren’t remotely funny. Maria was the only person who knew the reason why he was feeling so depressed lately. He felt as if he could tell her, because even though he knew she cared about him, they weren’t remotely good friends, and something about that made it easier for him to tell. He didn’t care if she’ll judge him, or look at him another way after this.

“Listen, Alexander -” she begun, her tone causing Alex to look up from his glass and direct his eyes towards her, “- I feel like I have to apologize to you.”

He huffed a laugh, “About what? You never wronged me.”

“You know… when we slept together?”

He said carefully, “Yes,” adding, “what about that?”

“I… I took your wallet and gave it to James. He- he forced me to do it, and I couldn’t fight back. I am so, so sorry. I know it caused you to get hurt and I -”

“Maria, please. You didn’t have a choice, I can’t hold it against you,” he smiled comfortingly, although his eyes gave away that he wasn’t at all in a mood to smile.

She blinked and chuckled, taking a sip of her cocktail. Alex said, “Besides, I had a good time.”

“Did you really?” she scoffed.

“Wanna go again?” he wiggled his eyebrows and they both laughed.

“Seriously?” Maria asked, once they both stopped.

“Hella.”

*~*

Waking up in Maria’s bed wasn’t half bad. She was snuggled in the crook of his arm, hair in his face, but he didn’t mind. His leg was clasped between her, and her arm was draped across his stomach. He slowly inhaled her scent, before he shifted on the bed, stirring her awake. She yawned, muttering morning into his skin. He said it back, and they lied like that for another few moments.

“I gotta go, Laf will be worried about me,” he laughed lightly, attempting to wrestle out of her grasp. She held onto him tighter, “Stay…”

“Maria, hey…”

“Hey.”

“Okay,” he decided, and she climbed up on top of him, straddling his lap. One of her hands was planted beside his head, her mouth on his, kissing with passion. His hands went up to her hips, as one of hers trailed down his stomach, down and down, until it reached his sex. His hips buckled up involuntarily as one of her fingers slipped easily inside him, her thumb pressing circles on his clit. He moaned into her mouth, and he felt as she smiled into the kiss. He brought his legs wider, Maria pushing herself up. Alex took the chance to suck on one of her nipples, already stiff, and she didn’t exactly keep silent either.

“ _Mm_ , I wanna fuck you,” she said, eliciting a laugh from Alexander. He asked playfully, “Aren’t you doing that right now?”

“I am, but I wanna do it with a strap-on.”

“You have a _strap-on?_ ” he asked, frankly surprised. She nodded, and then slipped off of him, shortly going through her drawers, until she found what she was looking for, letting out a triumphant _‘ha!’_. In her hand, she held a white phallic device of solid 7 inches. Alex tilted his head, brown eyes darkening with lust. It didn’t take her long to prepare. And with quite a lot of lube, she rocked Alexander’s world.

In fact, so much so, that the little issue called ‘Thomas Jefferson’ slipped into the oblivion, the darkest parts of his brain.

*~*

Thomas tried so much to forget about Hamilton. But the man seemed to be everywhere, in the cafeteria with him, in the classes with him, on the same floor with him. He never looked at him more than he had to. The only person that knew why exactly of course was Jemmy. Gilbert, who didn’t seem to be able to get much information out of Hamilton, then went to harass him about it. He couldn’t get the Frenchman off his back, but eventually, he did back off, after Thomas particularly harshly snarled at him, something along the lines of ‘stop sticking your nose in my business, you French fuck’. Gilbert didn’t talk to him in days, which made Thomas rethink his actions, however, not enough to make him own up to what he said and apologize, like an adult.

He was also slightly bothered by the fact that Hamilton seemed to forget about him in a week. He’d seen him happy and without a care in the world, with that Maria girl wrapped around him everywhere he went. He watched them prance around the University as if they own the place. He saw the way Eliza looked at them, too. It seemed as if every person around here knew that she had the eyes for the chocolate-skinned girl since they met, and it was beyond him 1) how oblivious Maria was about it, and 2) how could Hamilton do such a thing to his friend. Because he knew for a fact that Eliza would do anything for him, give up anyone, or something like that, yet he couldn’t see how this affected her? Pathetic. Disgusting. And to think about how, disregarding _Alexis_ , he had started harboring feelings for _Alexander_ during the course of the last month.

That’s right. He’d taken him out for lunch, coffee, and to a theme park. He cuddled in the bed with the man, allowing himself to enjoy those moments while they lasted. He assumed they wouldn’t last, knowing his luck, and he was apparently right.

That was why there was a very distressed Elizabeth Schuyler on his lap right now, as they sat on the bench at the window of her apartment downtown, covered in blankets, pillows, and each of them nursing a bottle of alcohol. He brought whiskey for the two of them initially, and that was the drink in his hand at the moment. When Eliza saw it, she took a bottle of bourbon from her storage, explaining that she was not a fan of his drink of choice.

At first they prepared glasses, and were, like civilized people, seated at the dinner table, somewhat shy around one another because truth be told, they weren’t the closest of friends. After downing couple of glasses, they began drunkenly ranting and crying about their unrequited crushes. When the clock marked past midnight, they got up so Thomas could leave. But the moment she stood on her feet, she almost feel down. The closest acceptable surface to sit on was the said bench, and somehow they collapsed on it. They didn’t have the mind to get up, Eliza making her way onto Thomas’ lap, crying into his shoulder. Even though he swore not to shed a tear, he couldn’t hold it in himself any longer. He stroked her back soothingly, although it was hardly any help.

*~*

Alexander silently cried in the corner of his dorm room, phone in his hands, reading their past messages.

March 16, 2012, _‘Good night, darling. Sleep well xx’_

‘ _Good night yourself, Tommy <3’_

‘ _Told you not to call me that haha’_

‘ _Babe, I’ll call you whatever I like as long as you’re mine ;)’_

‘ _In that case, I can be persuaded to allow it, sugar’_

‘ _Whose the one with the nicknames now, hmmmm? XD’_

‘ _Go to sleep, Alex xx’_

‘ _But I don’t wannnaaaaa’_

‘ _Hush. See you tomorrow, babygirl. X’_

A single tear slides down his cheek as his thumb selects the option ‘Delete conversation’ in the corner of the screen. And just like that, the evidence that Thomas once loved him was gone forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thomas is a declared meme right now gotta blAst


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is honestly a filler chapter + rev squad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am stealing my neighbor's wi fi for y'all hope u appreciate it

Thomas woke up to the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. He glanced at the clock on the other side of the room. It was about 7:30. He noticed he was still in Eliza’s apartment – actually, it was pretty apparent, since the girl was still half-draped across him. He maneuvered around her, twisting himself so that he can reach the said pocket. After a little struggle, he managed to fish it out. As soon as he read the text preview and person who sent it, he instantly frowned. _Hamilton_ , the contact name said, and he unlocked his phone to respond. The text read, _‘You left your jacket at my place. I don’t know what to do with it.’_ Indeed, he remembered, his black leather jacket. It was missing, and he thought he misplaced it, all this time. Not from the looks of it. He momentarily decided that he’d rather suck Reynolds’ dick than be in a near vicinity of Hamilton, so without much thinking, he texted back. _‘Keep it.’_ He stared at Hamilton’s text for a while, actually. It was odd, being in any kind of contact with the Caribbean after almost a week and a half. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he missed him. Even more so when he found out who Hamilton was. He chuckled, despite himself, when he saw that Hamilton sent the text at 3:04 a.m. Typical.

At some point, Eliza began to stir awake, humming softly against the fabric of Thomas’ dress shirt. Her head was placed right on his stomach area, and she seemed confused for a moment who she was waking up to. She grimaced, probably because of the killer headache, and Thomas shook his head fondly. His head was hurting as well, but not more than your average migraine (he got those a lot), “Hey, ‘Liza? I should be going. Do you need help with anything?”

She yawned and sat back, rubbing her eyes and wincing at the sudden light in the room, because they sat next to a window, “Probably not. Though I’d appreciate if you could take me to the bedroom and close the blinds. And text Angelica to check up on me,” she said, and Thomas nodded. He got up and picked her up bridal style, as she directed him to the said bedroom. After laying her onto the bed and doing as she instructed, closing away any light source, from his phone he sent a text to the older Schuyler sister. She responded fairly quickly, saying that she’ll be there in twenty minutes. After all this was done, he headed out of the apartment and made his way back to the campus.

*~*

James was awake by the time Thomas came to the dorm. He didn’t ask many questions, though the way his friend looked at him, Thomas could see the wariness written all over his face. James only told him to go and shower, because given the circumstances, he probably reeked of alcohol.

Thankfully, the showers didn’t seem to be busy today, something he was thankful for. He tried to make it quick, and was done in record time. He didn’t wash his hair, which maybe was a mistake on his part, but he didn’t quite care at the moment. He did, however, think about Hamilton. How could he not, really? He wasn’t like _some people_ , he wouldn’t forget about him in a week. He found out that all the initial anger that boiled inside him cooled off. He wasn’t mad anymore. He was just… disappointed with him. He winched, realizing that he sounded just like his father in his head; but Hamilton deserved it. He deserved every little bit of guilt that he undoubtedly felt. He deserved Thomas’ distrust towards him. At this moment, Thomas felt utterly defeated. His world has been turned upside down in less than six weeks, thanks to Hamilton.

And speak of the devil, guess who just entered the room. Hamilton in the flesh, a fluffy green towel around his waist, and a white one around his neck. Thomas didn’t spare him a glance, pretended not to see him. But Hamilton had the gall to stop and look at him. Thomas could see his face in the mirror without having to turn around, as he pretended to wash his hands. The immigrant’s face was full of emotion, but the most prominent one was undoubtedly regret. A very simple ‘sorry’ written all over his features. Thomas blinked slowly, composing himself. He was that close to turning around and let Hamilton explain himself, cry his fucked up, broken heart out in the public showers, slump against the tiles. He gave in, turning his head around just a little, just enough to meet Hamilton’s gaze. The moment the smaller man locked eyes with him, his mouth fell open, as if this little time wasn’t enough to even sum up all he had to say to Thomas. He blinked, and Thomas looked away.

“Thomas -” there it was, just as he predicted. He wanted to snap at him, tell him to shut up and save the empty apologies, but it was stronger than him. So he said nothing, remaining quiet, a silent ‘go on’ that he would never allow anyone else in this situation, “I can’t begin to tell you how… how sorry I am,” just as expected, Thomas though, Hamilton will need to make this apology much better if he expects any kind of forgiveness, “I know that it isn’t nearly enough for me to just say it, and even though I know that you can never forgive me, I just needed you to know this. To hear this,” he sucked in a breath. Thomas stopped the water flow and dried his hands with a towel, “And I am sorry that I have lied about who I was… I know that that was what probably repulses you the most.”

“Hamilton -” against his better judgment, Thomas spoke up, “it was never about you being transgender, if that’s what you mean. It will never _be_ about you being transgender. It’s about you keeping me in the dark for five years,” he almost growled that last bit out, teeth and fists clenched, his expression morphing from unreadable to something akin to anger, “Get that through that thick skull of yours, okay? Stop thinking about yourself and your priorities. If you want anything from me, put yourself in my point of view.”

Hamilton looked dumbfounded, as if he didn’t even expect Thomas to acknowledge his existence. Well, he didn’t, for a week. But he had his reasons. Pretty valid reasons as well. “I -” he started, Thomas’ eyes pining him in the spot, “I see what you mean. I’ll be good, I promise -”

“Your ‘promises’ don’t mean anything to me,” Thomas pushed past Hamilton and bolted right back to his room. He had classes to get ready for, and he still had to get dressed and pack his stuff.

*~*

_Your promises don’t mean anything to me._

_Your promises don’t mean anything to me._

The sentence echoed in Alex’s head as he stood still in the showers, Thomas long gone already. It was hard to comprehend what just happened. It was a huge relief when he found out that Thomas didn’t deem the fact that he was trans as something of great importance. The realization that the mess he made pushed Thomas away came crashing down, and he felt heaviness in his chest, around his heart. He messed up, real badly.

He took time to shower, since he didn’t have classes today. He thought about dialing up John, once he got back into his room, and then did it. John was luckily available today, so he was knocking onto his door pretty soon after Alex called. He seemed happy today, and Alex didn’t have the heart to burden him with his own misfortune, so they settled on calling Laf and Herc over to hang out.

By five o’clock, they were settled on Alex’s bed, Alex in John’s lap, the freckled boy’s arms locked around his waist and his head on the junction between Alex’s shoulder and neck. Alex’s head was tipped back, resting on the wall. Lafayette was in between Hercules’ legs, half asleep in broad daylight. It was just that tired kind of day, and Alexander did not mind.

“Alezzander, mon Chou, do you know perhaps what is going on with mon tigre Thomas?” Lafayette asked casually, sleepily slurring out the words, “He’s been acting out lately, and he won’t talk to me. I thought, since you two seem to be close all of a sudden, you may know… _anything_ about that.”

Alexander’s breath hitched in his throat, “I- I wouldn’t know,” he croaked out, his voice shaking to the point where he wouldn’t believe himself if he had heard what he said from a position of a by-stander. However, Lafayette either was so tired that he hadn’t noticed, or didn’t want to press for any further explanation, “Have you tried asking him what’s going on?”

“I did, actually,” Laf said thoughtfully, “He called me a French fuck and told me to basically piss off,” Laf didn’t sound frustrated, angry, or sad. He said it matter-of-factly. However, Alex did see how Hercules frowned all of a sudden, and as he spoke up, his tone was harsh and protective, “What did that purple-loving piece of shit say? I will kick his ass, Gilbert, I swear on-”

“Hush, mon amour, it’s no big deal,” Lafayette looked up at Hercules, and momentarily the man’s face softened. His hand found it’s way to Laf’s hair, and the Frenchman all but purred in delight. Alex chuckled fondly, and he felt John sight against his neck. Laf added, “Besides, don’t you think I could just as easily _kick his ass_ , non?”

“It’s not that I doubt your strength,” Herc said, “it’s that I doubt you’ll get into an unnecessary fight with the risk of perhaps breaking your nail.” Lafayette swatted him playfully, pretending to be offended, but he was already laughing. John snickered.

“It takes time and effort to have your nails look magnificently as mine,” Lafayette countered, putting his hand out on display. Little light that came off of the TV illuminated them, making the metallic blue nail polish (with three white dots possibly resembling stars in each top right corner of them) look even better. John complimented them, along with Alex’s and Hercules’ ‘wow’s. Lafayette beamed with pride, explaining that he learned to do it by himself.

“Hey-a, Laf?” John called, his voice sounding unusually shy. Alex arched his eyebrow, expectant to hear what John wants to ask.

“Oui, mon ami?”

“Could ya… I dunno, do my nails some time?”

“Sans doute, dear John! That’s an understatement!”  
John blushed a little at Lafayette’s enthusiasm, but he looked positively happy. Alex smiled and shortly kissed his cheek. Suddenly his phone vibrated on his nightstand, and he scrambled off of John’s lap to fetch it. There were two new texts, one from an hour ago that he probably didn’t hear. It was from George, the contact name still ‘Washing machine’. He never changed it back from that one time John got a hold of his phone. He clicked on it, and it read, _‘Hi, son. I hope you are feeling well. I am writing to you for no particular reason, although I was hoping that you might want to join Martha and myself for a lunch one weekend. We miss you, both. Feel free to decline or reschedule. Love, dad.’_ He didn’t respond immediately, scrolling down to see the newer of the two texts, and this one was from Maria. It was short and clear – _‘dtf?’_ which was, of course, a really tempting invitation, though, he felt like he couldn’t reject his friends now, considering they haven’t had much time to spend time together of late. He quickly typed, _‘nother time, I have laf john and herc over k bb?’_ Soon enough, came a response, _‘ofc, np boi ;) ill be looking forward to our next meeting. Hmu when u hav time.’_ He would usually smile at his phone when he read something like that, though now it did elicit a feeling of guilt in his stomach. He didn’t like it.

*~*

“It’s not that simple James,” Thomas said, only slightly annoyed at his friend, who insisted that Thomas should talk to be, because as he put it so nicely, he was done with Thomas’ moping, and he isn’t sharing a room with a whiny teenage girl, but a grown man that should be able to talk about his feelings.

“How is it not? You just tell me, and I’ll see if I can help,” James tried again, pulling up a chair next to Thomas at the taller Virginian’s desk, turning it so that he could rest his arms on the back of it.

“I can’t tell you,” Thomas huffed, “because you know this person.”

“Well, I did expect to know them, you know. We hang out in a pretty tight circle.”

“It’s not that… you know them from before. Like, years back. Not-even-worth-mentioning-had-I-not-found-myself-in-this-situation years back,” Thomas explained, all the while avoiding to actually look at James.

“I mean, it’s pretty _worth mentioning_ if it’s causing you so much distress. And I am sure I won’t be bothered if it’s been so long ago.

Thomas wasn’t planning to tell this to anyone, but something inside him, something that held all the information away just broke, snapped, and he spilled everything. James didn’t interrupt him once, only soaking up every word Thomas would say. He felt relieved after it, finally set free of carrying that burden by himself.

After that, oddly, he didn’t cry. He just felt as if he was past that stage. Far from forgiving Alexander, but he’s done wasting his time being angry without a cause.

*~*

Alex had three men sleeping in his bed. Lafayette clinging on Hercules, squished between the boy and the wall; John was back to back with Herc, arms draped across Alex in a loose grip. He wiggled out, just a little, to grab his phone, lying on his stomach as he typed the password in and lowering the screen brightness to the minimum. He opened his conversation with Maria, staring at the previous texts, sent only about four hours ago. After giving it some thought, he wrote, _‘can we meet to talk for a sec?’_ and pressed send. Not minutes later, right as he was scrolling through his Instagram feed, came a response, _‘sure we can. Come by to my dorm ;)’_

‘ _it’s not that kinda ‘talk’, maria. This is serious rlly’_

‘ _oh.. in that case, still come to my dorm and we’ll talk’_

‘ _cool’_

He carefully got out of the bed, got up and headed to the door, closing them as silently as possible, trotting to the end of the hallway. He knocked onto the door #313 and a familiar face welcomed him in. “Hey,” she said, “what did you want to discuss?” He noticed that her hair was messy, she didn’t wear makeup and wore only a red mantel to cover herself up. He obviously woke her up, but he’ll apologize for that later. He watched her sit on the bed, and he momentarily decided to stay up on his feet. “Listen,” he begun, and he watched her expression change to something akin to worry, “I- I came to realization recently that… as much as I love what we have; the casual, no-commitment-required fucks – I don’t need that right now, in life. Thing between me and… some people became complicated, and I feel like this is only fuel to a fire. Furthermore,” he continued, “I know that, even if I hadn’t had so much going on in life, I couldn’t continue this because I know that you love somebody else. Somebody by the name Eliza Schuyler. Aren’t I right?” Maria took a moment, and then nodded, “and I know that she loves you all the same. Which only more reason why this has to stop.”

Maria nodded, a smile smile growing on her lips as she serenely looked at the floor, likely not directed at Alexander but a certain somebody in her head. She looked up at him, and then got up herself. She came over and wrapped his arms around his neck into a tight hug. He didn’t think twice before hugging her back. Before they parted, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and then whispered, “Goodbye, Alexander.”

“Bye, Maria. Stay safe,” and with that, he left the room.

*~*

There was knocking at Thomas’ door. He looked at the clock on his phone; it was 3:14 a.m. Who sane not only awake at 3:15, but also goes to bother other people at 3:15? The moment he opened the door, his questions were answered. “Hamilton?” he slurred sleepily.

“Hi- Thomas. I came to say something.”

“How unexpected of you,” he said, sarcasm lacing his words.

Hamilton seemingly elected to ignore the comment, “I know that I said I was sorry many times today. In the showers, to be exact. And you told me that I should think about other people and how my actions affect them. I just wanted you to know, that this time I really did give it a thought. I now fully realized how much I probably have hurt you, as I tried to push you away all these years. I don’t expect much from you, after this. Just wanted you to know,” he said all this in what seemed to be one breath, trying to squeeze all his words into a short amount of time.

Thomas nodded, despite himself. “And why exactly did you feel the need to tell me this at ass o’clock in the morning?”

Alexander shrugged, “I suppose I wanted to tell you everything the moment I realized it, and not give you the version which I probably changed zillion of times, and over-thought by the morning.”

Thomas looked down and nodded, one hand grabbing the door frame, as if not to fall face-first because of how tired he is. Alexander didn’t do much either, awkwardly shifted on his feet before managing a half-assed, barely audible, “G’night,” before shuffling back to his dorm.

*~*

By the time Alexander came back, the sun was already seeping through the small window in the room. He glanced at his bed, the trio still completely intertwined, limbs and hair everywhere. He somehow didn’t want to be too close to anybody, so he opted on taking the empty bed on the other side of the room. It was only bed frame and mattress, no sheets. It was dusty and cold, and maybe what he needed; a place without anything to disturb or distract him, so he can clear his head and think properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for keeping up so far with this shit show, much love for y'all


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> is it possible that even more plot twists can occur? of course, it's me we're talking about
> 
> thomas gets _feeliiiiiiiiingssssssss ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello beautiful people 
> 
> for one, i'd like to say that i'm sorry this took so long to update. there was a fire and well, i won't get into too much detail, but the whole town was out of power for a considerable amount of time. two, i wouldn't hope that there'll be another update tomorrow, seeing as i'm travelling home then. because of the said fire, my vacation has been cut short. it's fine, though.
> 
> WARNINGS?  
> \- Misgendering  
> \- Flashbacks (not bad)  
> \- James Reynolds 
> 
> Side note: Regarding James Reynolds; okay, so as some of you have probably caught on, I didn't see Hamilton live (just bootlegs. Forgive me, Lin) and therefore, I don't know how the actor that portrays Reynolds looked like. In the one that I watched, there was a blonde actor, and I kinda imagined him having blue eyes. And because I thought that this actor was the original James Reynolds, I didn't bother to check it. What gave it away was one pic of Sydney (the actual James actor) and Jazzy on Instagram. I don't wanna go back and change what I've written already, so you'll have to settle on blond-haired, blue-eyed James Reynolds, kay?

Fairly soon, Thomas came to conclusion that Hamilton is positively insane.

At first, the things he did were small. He’d hold the doors open for Thomas when going into the same classroom, or something similarly unnoticeable. But as the week progressed, Thomas was awaited with a cup of warm coffee at his seat, in whichever class he had with Hamilton, or fucking post-it papers with an inspirational quote or something equally idiotic. Really, it was becoming slightly unbearable.

This went on for two weeks; they didn’t talk that much either, but Thomas found himself oddly becoming more and more fond of the man. Of course, it possibly was because of the fact that he bloody used to love Hamilton, but he dismissed the thought as soon as it weaseled its way back into his head. Which was couple of times a day.

Somewhere along the way, James Reynolds was back at the campus. The month flew by, and people seemed to forget about him, much to the man’s obvious dissatisfaction. Even his little gang didn’t pay that much attention to him; Lee and Monroe were under Conway’s ‘leadership’, Seabury slowly began separating from them, until it finally became a rarity for the ginger to be hanging out near them. At least half the campus is gossiping that Seabury’s fucking King. Or alternatively – that King is fucking Seabury. Either way, neither of the parties is addressing the rumors – why would they? – and so people can only assume.

Taking all this into consideration, Thomas felt as if he was allowed to be worried about Hamilton. The man hasn’t been to class in two days, hasn’t left no warm beverages, nor annoying post-it notes for him to find. He considered talking to Gilbert, which was why he was texting him right now. And before you ask, yes, he did apologize.

‘ _I’m afraid that mon petit lion is experiencing some… stomach pains.’_

‘ _Stomach pains? Hamilton has had a flu last year and still came to class until he couldn’t physically stand on his feet. I can’t imagine that something like this would prevent him from pestering_ _the hell out of_ _everybody.’_

He got no response after that text, and against his better judgment, took a trip to the grocery store. He grabbed a box of chamomile tea (because he feels as if it would fit Hamilton’s pretentious tastes) and a package of donuts. That should suffice, he thought and headed home, not without thinking how ridiculous this actually was. But then again, wasn’t this whole situation ridiculous regardless of the fact that he just went to pick up supplies for his arch-nemesis-turned-friend-turned-something-complicated?

He ignored the odd looks he got from James as he rushed in their dorm and went on to make the tea. He exchanged a few texts with his siblings in their group chat ( _‘The JefferSONS and daughters’_ Yes they are very proud of coming up with that name, funny you should ask) before pouring the tea in a purple cup with a unicorn, a joke present he got from his sister Mary last year but took it to college with him regardless, and grabbed the box of donuts. He made his way to the end of the hall, towards Hamilton’s room. When he reached it, he was surprised that there was no noise coming from inside. He balanced the box and the cup single-handedly while trying to open the doors with the other. Of course, of all possible times Hamilton could’ve locked them, he did it the one time where Thomas was on the verge of dropping donuts and hot tea on himself. Fuckin’ lovely.

He knocked onto them with his foot, “Hamilton? Open the door!” There was general silence, and for a moment, Thomas thought that nobody was home, but then he heard a dull, loud thud from the inside and he called again, “Open the God damn door Hamilton, or so help me.”

Silence. “No, go away, Jefferson!”

“I swear to everything that is holy to you, I will knock the door down and strangle you. My hand is on fire and I will drop everything I am carrying in point-five seconds if you -” and then Hamilton opened the door.

He looked generally like shit; his hair was everywhere, sticking out in various shapes, sizes and places. He wore a large, grey hoodie with bold ‘Princeton’ written over it in. Underneath the hoodie poke out a green pajama top, and he wore matching green pajama bottoms. His socks were unmatched, one orange and one white; his neatly trimmed beard has turned to something akin to a messy and unkept scruff. His sclera was red rimmed, his eyes puffy, dry tear trails were on his cheeks, and under his eyes there were two dark bags. Not to mention that there were food and drink stains covering almost every square inch of his body. “Christ, Hamilton, what happened to you?” come to think of it, his room was in no better condition.

“Nothing,” he muttered, looking everywhere but into Thomas’ eyes, hands fumbling with the part of the pajama that stuck out under the hoodie, “I’m fine, can you go?”

“Well, if you asked so kindly, no I cannot. Look at you, who rational would leave anybody looking like shit?” Thomas frowned.

“Gee, thanks,” before Thomas got to respond, he continued, “What’s this?” he motioned at the tea and donuts.

“Gilbert told me you were having stomach pains, when I asked where were you for the last two days. So, like a _good person_ , I went out to grab you couple of stuff. Also, who the hell looks like this solely from stomach pains? What’s actually going on, Hamilton?”

“Fuckin’ Lafayette,” Hamilton muttered under his breath, and then said something Thomas could not quite comprehend, _“I’monmyperoof.”_

“What? I couldn’t understand you,” Thomas tried again, attempting to perhaps soften his tone just a little bit, since Hamilton seemed under so much stress.

“I’m on my _period_ , okay?!” Hamilton hissed. Oh. _Oh._

“Oh – shit, I didn’t know, I’m sorry,” Thomas tried to sound sincere, because dammit, he _was_ sincere. They stood in uncomfortable silence for a moment, before he asked, “Do you want tea and donuts?”

“I want coffee and death,” Hamilton said plainly, no distinct emotion in his tone, as he moved from the doorway and motioned Thomas to get in, “but I suppose that tea and donuts will suffice.” Thomas chuckled, without any humor behind it, and closed the door shut, locking it, as he walked in.

The room seemed even darker than usual, the blinds and the curtains shut completely, the TV’s brightness on bare minimum. Hamilton’s bed was (again) a full-fledged nest, and he came back to curl under the covers, surrounded by many pillows (some of which were undoubtedly from Gilbert, John or Hercules). Surprisingly, he did recognize one of his own purple blankets in the mix, thought he didn’t mind. He stood awkwardly in the center of the room, before scrambling towards the same bed, sitting down against the wall, keeping a fair distance between himself and the other man.

“You’re watching Hobbit, hobbit?” Thomas attempted to joke, twitching his head towards the TV, earning a small huff of laughter from Hamilton. Or Alexander. Or Alex. Regardless of how he calls him, he thinks that his obsession with Hobbit and Lord of the Rings franchise is getting a little out of hand; it’s the only thing he’s ever seen the man watch whenever Thomas came by. Suddenly he heard Alex murmur something, but he didn’t seem to quite understand, “What did you say?”

Alexander sighed, “I just said that it was completely idiotic for the dwarfs to leave Rivendel without notifying Gandalf,” he explained, his face turning into an expression of annoyance towards the characters, which Thomas also found oddly comical.

“What happens after that?” Thomas asked, because he has never really seen the movie. Alexander looked at him in utter disbelief, presumably thinking the same thing, but nonetheless responding, “They’ll had to find shelter in the midst of a battle of stone giants, and because they are very shitty when it comes to picking cave to sleep in, they’ll get trapped by the goblins, and then the king of the goblins – forgot what was his name – tells Azog, the pale ork, also known as main antagonist and Thorin’s mortal enemy, who by the way, all this time did _not_ know where the dwarfs were, sends a small battalion of warg riders after them. And also, Bilbo will be trapped in a riddle game with Gollum. _Shit goes down_ , to put it simply.”

Thomas nodded, even though he knew very little and the movie was one third over, he invested himself in watching and even commenting on it. It seemed to make Alex happy, and possibly distract him from cramps. All in all, he was quite happy himself that he could be of some use.

“How are you feeling?” Thomas asks, sure, because he’s worried, but also to break the uncomfortable silence that has fallen between the two. What he gets from Alexander is a sarcastic huff of laughter and, “Physically, I can deal with the cramps. It’s fucked, and I feel like somebody is ripping out my uterus with a hunting knife, but I live through it. Mentally, I feel like shit. Periods… they always make me die a little bit inside.”

“Oh,” Thomas said intelligently. He didn’t get to finish what he wanted to say, before there was knocking on the door, rather loud, and since Thomas didn’t lock them after coming in, three familiar faces barged in. Of course, the ‘Revolutionary Squad’ as they dumbly called themselves. All of them had something in their hands; bags presumably filled with period supplies, food, sweets, blankets (as if Alexander was in any shortage of those). Hercules was the first to arch his eyebrow when he saw Thomas on the bed, two meters away from Alexander. The strangest thing of all, though, was probably the fact that neither of the two looked uncomfortable, nor did they fight. Just sat peacefully, for once in life.

“He knows, y’all,” came Alexander’s tired voice from the ‘nest’ and that was probably regarding the whole trans situation. Thomas nodded weakly, and the revolutionists hurled up towards the bed. Laurens was the first one to take Alexander in his arms, wrapping himself around the smaller man until Alex was safely situated in his lap, the immigrant’s head tipped back on Laurens’ shoulder. His eyes were closed, and Thomas managed to get a glimpse of Laurens’ hands on Alexander’s belly. All of them actually seemed to disregard the fact that Thomas wasn’t a part of their crew. Gilbert sat between Thomas and Laurens/Alex, and Hercules made his way towards the small counter in the other corner of the room, making some sort of snack.

Thomas felt totally out of place. He made that subtly clear when he murmured to Gilbert, “I should go. You… you text me if Al- Hamilton gets better, ‘kay?” and after Gilbert confirmed, got off the bed without disrupting whatever Laurens and Hamilton got going on, then shuffled out of the room. Once he was out, he took a deep breath. He was feeling hot, his face and neck burning up from some reason. He realized something slightly disturbing to himself.

For the first time in years he maybe, kind of, felt as if he wanted to kiss Hamilton. Alexander. Alex.

It fucked with his mind; he was supposed to be mad, wasn’t he? Then again, what was there to be mad about? He had no excuse, Alexander didn’t have to justify his actions to anyone, especially not Thomas. God, this thing was a mess. On the bright side, something has surely changed. _Surely_ , in the past few weeks, maybe a month. Not once has he looked at Alexander and seen disgust in his eyes, like he often did during the last couple of years that they met in college. He’s seen anger, disappointment, dislike and even disdain. Lately, even some sort of strange fondness has made an appearance; but not disgust. And Thomas can’t help the feeling that something doesn’t add up.

Just like he said; something has changed.

He knows for certain that he’s felt some sort of _feeling_ towards _Hamilton_. It was a small, fuzzy thing, blossoming in the depths of his heart, and he didn’t dare let it out. He could barely deal with that and now that he knew positively that Hamilton and Alex were the same person… it was complicated, okay?

Which was why he was now headed to his dorm, ready to collapse on his bed and nap for eternity.

… Had he not bumped straight into James Reynolds.

*~*

  
  


“Thomas Jefferson, my, my, a face I haven’t seen in a while,” he said, venom dripping from his seemingly friendly words – they were not, “Do tell, how’s princess Alexandra?”

Thomas instantly felt absolute rage and utter hatred boil deep inside him, and suddenly there was a compelling instinct to punch Reynolds in the face. His fists balled at his sides, and he was running on the last bit of self-control he had. He could see James Monroe and Charles Lee walking side by side towards them, stopping as soon as they reached a meter or two behind the blonde man. All three wore matching smirks on their faces. When Thomas ignored him, Reynolds persisted, “Did you two get together yet? Do you have a _girlfriend_ now, Tommy?”

This was mainly working him up so much because he knew that the mockery and wrong pronoun usage could affect Alexander much more fatally than anything. He prayed that Reynolds didn’t know that Alexander was transgender, because he has no idea to what lengths would the man go to hurt him. And to top it off, he isn’t even sure what did Alexander ever do to wrong James. Maybe Reynolds was just that bad of a person – that’s likely, actually.

  
  


“No, James, for your information. Alexander and I have no romantic relations, if that’s what you’re implying,” Thomas snarled, taking one step towards James. Even though the man was pretty tall, Thomas still had two inches on him, and he was just now taking it into his advantage.

“That’s a pity. You’d make a cute couple,” James pushed, growling out the words. Thomas had no idea what was this argument about.

*~*

Alexander could hear Reynolds and Thomas in front of his room. He’s pretty sure that all of them, Herc, Laf and John, could. Though nobody said anything, so he decided that Thomas could deal with Reynolds. Hopefully.

*~*

“ _Happy 6 th birthday, Alexis!” a small, blue-eyed, blonde-haired boy walked up to her. She smiled at him, watching blush creep onto his face and down his neck. In his hands, he held a blue teddy bear, barely bigger than his palm, his eyes a couple of black buttons and an orange patch on one of his legs. Alexis took it in her hands and watched the boy’s eyes gleam with pride, “Thank you, James,” she said politely, “Wanna go play in the sandpit?”_

“ _Yeah, I do!” he said excitedly, and it seemed as if this was the highlight of his day. The two toddlers ran outside to the playgrou_ nd.

*~*

“ _So… you’re going away, huh?” he asked, and Alexis couldn’t hide her displeasure about the situation either. “Yeah. I… my cousin, he finally came back from…. Wherever he was, and now I’m going down to Virginia.”_

“ _Oh, that’s… great for you, yeah.”_

“ _I’m so sorry James. I know that I probably won’t be able to call you… but we’ll always stay friends, right?” she asked hopeful, her eyes searching for his, but James’ stuck on the ground in front of them. It was hard. They were only ten, and in the whole orphanage, they only had one another. And how that Alex is going to live with her cousin in Charlottesville, James is going to be all by himself. Who knows when, if ever, he’ll get the chance to find a home? So many children don’t._

“ _Yeah. We will,” he managed a weak smile._

*~*

_James couldn’t stop thinking about Alex Hamilton ever since he laid eyes on the boy. Or… or a girl? He couldn’t tell. Frankly, it wasn’t important to him. But what was important, on the other hand, was that the boy had this uncanny resemblance to a person he used to know and like. Hell, even their names were similar. Alexis and Alex. How odd. Though, this person was significantly more different. His voice was soft and somehow high pitched, admittedly odd for a 17-year-old, but yeah, whatever, he’s a late bloomer. He was quite short, he had no facial hair, he always wore baggy shirts and hoodies, even if it was the middle of the summer, and he always wore long trousers. Even his foot size was small. He shared a room with girls, for some unknown reason, but he was always hanging out with boys, especially this one guy (who was odd in the same way as he was)_ _Henry Knox. Henry was a head taller than Alex, he’ll give him that. His voice though, still cracked on certain words, even if it was significantly deeper than Alex’s._

_The strangest thing was probably that Alex attempted to hang out with him in the beginning. James was suspicious of him, very much so. And he couldn’t help it, once that James figured out how fucking feminine did this guy act. Of course he would begin teasing him. Of course, there was a herd of Alex’s ‘protectors’, John Adams, Henry Knox, Nathaniel Green… things just didn’t add up. So naturally, it was easy to come to conclusion that James would not befriend this guy in a million years. He doesn’t hang out with freaks._

_As his own hostility grow, so did Alex’s apparently. They became something short of arch nemeses, fighting over every little thing they could; from politics to which seat in the cafeteria they’ll sit on. When it came to arguments that required more knowledge and not just muscle, James unwillingly admits that Alex would always win. Then of course, James would have the advantage of beating the shit out of the boy, teaching him a lesson or two._ _And he had a good time doing so as well, watching him break down in tears and run back to his room, on the girls’ floor. However, the most satisfying thing ever was breaking him down mentally. Calling him a girl, that was probably what struck the nerve the most._

_There are two things that pissed off James the most, though, both of which were beyond his control. Maybe that was the most aggravating fact._

_This one was very simple, and not much to discuss. Alex somehow weaseled his way into the heart of one of his closest friends, John André. They began dating soon after, the whole orphanage buzzed about it. It wasn’t for the fact that John liked boys, nah, James was supportive. But for John, a friend since kindergarten, to leave him for Alex? John probably didn’t mean to do it, but as he spent more time with that creole bastard, they stopped being close. Sure, James did have a small army of guys behind him, but none of them was quite John. It hurt, James didn’t let it show._

_The second thing James will never forgive Alex is a little more complicated._

_Alex and himself were the first in line for adoption. Sure, people could take anybody they wanted, but the orphanage would always suggest the two of them first – because they were the oldest kids, and the troublemakers. They’d probably give anything to get rid of ‘Hamilton and Reynolds, the_ _menaces_ _that won’t let anybody have a minute of peace’. Back in 201_ _4_ _, when he was 18 and Alex was 17,_ _a well-standing family Washington, a couple without children, did listen to the suggestion of taking one of them. And do guess, who did they pick?_

_Alex fucking Hamilton._

_It was like a punch in the gut. Alex got to live in a good home for the rest of his life, probably. Even though he’s a nasty little shit, he’ll probably kiss Washingtons’ shoes, put on a mask to make them love him and let him stay. And James will have to spend couple more months in this hellhole, until he graduates high school and gets kicked out on the street. If he’s lucky, he’ll be able to get into college. His grades aren’t that bad, and he always hoped to get into Princeton._

*~*

_James didn’t know how did he managed to make it work – but here he was. Standing in front of the huge brick building, a freshman with big dreams, like the second guy. He made his way to the dorm building, looking for the room number 228. He pushed the key inside and opened the door. There was a man inside already, slightly taller than him, with short dark hair and hooded, squint-y brown eyes. “Hi,” he said, “Name’s Charles. Charles Lee.”_

“ _James Reynolds. So I assume you’re my roommate?” He asked, attempting at small talk, even though it was fairly obvious._

“ _Yeah, so it seems.”_

_The day has gone pretty well. The introduction classes were boring, but what else is new? James was walking down the pavement, until he caught the sight of somebody he hoped he would never have to face again. Alex Hamilton, accompanied by a short girl, with curly, let-down hair, caramel skin and large doe eyes. Alex didn’t seem too interested in her, but she made a couple of moves on him in those short moments. She was absolutely gorgeous._

_Few days later, when he got familiar with some people, he found out that the girl’s name was Maria Lewis, that she was a sophomore and that she moved here from Kansas few years back. He learned that Hamilton’s name was actually Alexander, and it didn’t really take him long to come up with oh-so-creative ‘Alexandra’ to mess with him. He managed to make some friends, Thomas Conway, James Monroe, and even this little ginger called Samuel Seabury._

*~*

_It didn’t take James long to get to the top of the food chain here, either. It was quite easy, actually. All it took is bully some weaklings, and after nearly three years, he’s the top dog. He made some unlikely connections as well, for example, Thomas Jefferson. The guy was intimidating and smart, he’ll give him that. He figured out that nobody ever messes with Jefferson. Even though allegedly Jefferson had no real desire to achieve what James had, as he considered it below him to bully people into submission, people really did not touch him. He wouldn’t call them friends, but they were close enough to get drunk together in the man’s room._

_Although, the best thing about Jefferson was that Hamilton absolutely seemed to hate him, without Jefferson having to do much. He’d smirk at him, and Hamilton’s face would momentarily change from indifference to his surroundings, to unadulterated hatred. Even though Jefferson claimed not to hate Hamilton, just simply had fun messing with him, James doesn’t miss how fierce their debates were, how ruthless they’d get with one another, and it came to the point where teachers didn’t dare to stop them, only doing something when they were afraid that the fight could get physical. It never did, but it was pretty damn close on multiple occasions._

*~*

Thomas managed to make his way away from Reynolds pretty soon, really. He doesn’t know what is Reynolds’s problem, but he’d rather not dwell into it too much. He doesn’t have time to waste on this useless low-live piece of shit.

*~*

_Fucking Alexander Hamilton. Fuck him, fuck his wits, fuck the way he reminds James of a friend he lost, fuck him from being totally opposite of his Alexis and making him live with that, fuck him from stealing his best friend, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him._

*~*

‘ _Listen…’_ came the unexpected text, and Thomas soon saw it was from none other than Alexander. It was 1:06 a.m. and should he really be surprised? _‘I just wanted to thank you for the tea.’_

Thomas didn’t get to respond before another one came in, _‘and donuts’._

‘ _No problem’_ he typed back, a smile creeping onto his face.

‘ _Well, thanks in any case’_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Low key shameless self-promo; if you wanna follow me on instagram: @notcha.son (I have the same profile pic as on ao3. Purple shit, you can't miss it. I do nothing but shitpost hamilton memes and occasionally spoil future chapters on my stories)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alex and james clash again, though this time, not in the way you might think.
> 
> p.s. sorry abt the incoming cliffhanger whoops
> 
> p.p.s. idk if its obvious or not, but philip hayler is actually pip hamilton. I just mashed hamilton + schuyler since theyre all too young to have basically adult kids rip. And i rlly wanted pip in this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! i had to take a brake for few days because, not to get into too much detail, my sister inhaled some smoke and had to stay in hospital for a little while. she's back now, tho, so no worries here. i dont like making excuses why i dont upload or take longer to do so, but i hope you can understand why i had to this time. as always, i appreciate people who actually like this and read this. have a great day!

For Alexander, the day began like any other. He woke up, took a shower, changed clothes, and got ready for class. On his way to the classroom, he met Peggy, and they casually chatted. At some point, she turned around the corner to go to her French class, while Alex kept going forward towards history. Washington’s classes were, not to be biased, always very entertaining in a way. Deep in his thoughts, he completely failed to see two people coming from the other direction, with the intention of going into the same classroom. He bumped into the pair and was thereby knocked onto the ground. He let out a yelp as his back hit the floor, and as he looked up, he was met with two pairs of eyes; one dark, dark brown, and other was crystal blue. Unfortunately, he knew these men all too well, and his face scrunched up in disgust. “Lee. Reynolds,” he said, not one emotion distinct from the way he spoke, however, his face told another story. That signature ‘I hate you with every fiber of my being’ frown made his way onto his face.

“Hamilton, what a joyful coincidence,” Reynolds sneered from above. Alexander momentarily decided that he didn’t like the way Reynolds towered over him, and got up to his feet in no time. Even though Reynolds still had couple of inches on him, his advantage was lesser. Reynolds continued, crossing his arms across his chest, “Do tell, how’s life? Missed me while I was gone?” he had the gall to wink at Alexander, and the smaller man was very close to punching that smirk off his face.

“Man, I bet you were up all night working on that one,” Alexander felt more confident than usual, and maybe not smartly so, decided to shoot back at the blonde man. He knew it’ll rile him up; Reynolds always had a hot temper.

“I could eat a bowl of alphabet soup and shit out a better comeback than that,” Reynolds tried (and tragically failed) to seem calm, his voice shaking with rage he was desperately trying to control. Lee, meanwhile, being the wiser of the two, saw where this was going, and put a hand on Reynolds’s forearm, in hopes of calming him down. Didn’t work. James only shook Lee’s hand away, took a step forward, and more intently stared Alexander down.

“Wow, what web-page did you read that one on?” Alexander scoffed at him, probably for the first time in life, not afraid of James at all. Or rather, for the second time. James was always all muscle and no brain, winning an argument with him was a task suit for a five-year-old, “Okay, Reynolds, but for real now – don’t you have anything else to entertain yourself with in life, other than bullying – well, _me_? You’re a twenty-one-year-old, why do you do this shit? You act like your place is in the middle school, not college – and I honestly really do wonder how you got into one. What, are you still mad at me for leaving, for John André, or that Washingtons picked me? None of that was my fault, you know?” Alexander’s voice was serious, he wasn’t taunting anymore. Meanwhile, Reynolds just looked… honest-to-God confused. His eyebrows knitted in a frown, face tilted as he intently listened to what Alexander had to say.

Finally, when Alex finished, he spoke up, his voice slightly cracking, “What? When you ‘left’? Left what, left _who_? I was never happier when you left Boston, you little _prick_ ,” with the last sentence, that growl came back, and his fists balled at his sides, although he didn’t look like he was going to punch Alexander, he looked quite… intimidating. Threatening. There was a couple more words Alexander could use to describe him, but it probably isn’t necessary. However, it was enough to make the little hairs at the nape of his neck bristle, and his knees quiver in fearful anticipation.

That wasn’t it. And it was at this moment that Alexander actually figured out that, beyond the two years of his high school days, Reynolds had no virtual idea of who Alex is and what they had. Which was a relief, really, and Alex sure isn’t going to hint it. Let James think he was alluding to him moving to New York with the Washingtons, “Then, if you’re so _happy_ to get rid of me, why won’t you _leave. Me. Alone_?” Alexander hissed. He took a step forward, grabbing a fistful of the front of James’ shirt, pulling the man down with him, still having to stand on the tips of his toes. Neither of them noticed the crowd that began creating around them, or Lee desperately trying to pull Reynolds away. James finally violently pushed Alexander away, making the man lose the grip on the shirt and lose his balance, falling onto the floor again. James huffed angrily and spat at Alexander, making his way into the classroom, not looking back.

Alex had mixed feelings, but he was above all disgusted. He looked at the spit on his shirt, and decided that James should drop dead for that only. It was a new, clean shirt. He scrambled up to his feet, glaring at the people around him. If looks could kill, they’d be dead. Apparently they took a hint and went back to their business, leaving Alex alone. Well, all except one.

“What do you want, Burr?” he muttered angrily, not looking at the man, rather fishing for a tissue in his pockets. After not finding one, Burr handed him one of his own. Alex used it to attempt to clean his shirt.

“Why do you keep purposefully getting into trouble with Reynolds?” Burr sighed dramatically, crossing his arms in a similar fashion, tapping his foot on the floor impatiently.

Alexander glanced up at him, “I do not do it _purposefully_. The bastard apparently loves getting into my way,” he huffed in annoyance, still failing to meet the other man’s eyes, “and I am not the one to be messed with. I allowed him way too much over the course of past years; I do not intend to let it continue any longer. I have to preserve any dignity that I have left,” he finally looked up, his expression yet again unreadable, “Now if you’ll excuse me – I have to get to class,” he casually gave Burr a once-over before heading into the classroom.

*~*

He has barely reached his seat when his phone began exploding. Who else, but Thomas Jefferson.

‘ _Are you okay???????’_

‘ _What were you thinking???’_

‘ _Did the fucker hurt you???’_

‘ _Alexander whatever-the-fuck-your-middle-name-is Hamilton, I swear to god if you don’t respond’_

Alexander couldn't help the small smile that found its way to his lips, but he also felt a little irritated that Thomas apparently deemed him as a helpless child. Because, really, he wasn’t helpless. Just… irrational. A little.

He typed back hurriedly, hopefully before Washington came, ‘I’m fine. You should stop worrying so much,’ and later, _‘Also, my middle name is Richard.’_

‘ _Of course I have to worry, Jesus Christ. From what I hear, you very well almost had another fight with that scum. Are you sure?’_

‘ _Alexander Dick Hamilton. Yeah, I can see that,’_ came only seconds later, and Alex didn’t know whether he should be irritated or amused. He settled on both.

‘ _Well, I have class, so if you’ll excuse me.’_ He put his phone away, even though he did hear another few buzzes during the lesson. He supposed perhaps it was Angelica, or Eliza. He doesn’t doubt that the video of the two of them was already traveling Twitter, Facebook and maybe even Tumblr. This kind of shit spreads quick, that much was obvious.

*~*

Falling in love with Alexander was painless, Thomas realized.

It felt very normal, very… ordinary. An every-day occurrence, if you will. He assumed that knowing who Alex was had a little influence, but he cannot deny, even to himself, that he hadn’t started falling much sooner. It was hard not to, truth be told. Alexander was smart, kind, always around to help, put himself after everybody else. He loved his friends with his whole heart, that much was obvious. He never failed to see how each of them were doing, even if it was in a shape of a small text. Thomas knew this because Gilbert had told him, and sure, maybe he felt a little bit of jealousy that Alex never really texts him casually… but hey, it doesn’t matter. Wasn’t he grateful for the tea and donuts, the other day?

James has gotten suspicious, Thomas can tell. The way his roommate would look at him whenever he spoke about Hamilton, or spoke with Hamilton, told him a lot about it. Even though James did know that he used to know Alex back in his high school days, he began talking about him casually with Thomas. Probably to see how, despite his dark complexion, he would blush at the mere mention of the immigrant’s name. Thomas didn’t hold it against him though, he himself admits that it was borderline ridiculous. The swooning and all.

So naturally, Thomas was worried beyond belief when he overheard that Alexander found himself in yet another face off with Reynolds. Boy, did Thomas hate that man’s sleazy guts. He was never a fan of Seabury’s, but he is very relieved that the ginger boy managed to get away from James. A seat on King’s lap probably wasn’t the best alternative, but in any case, it was better than to have Reynolds completely corrupt Sam’s mind. Because that was the inevitable outcome, wasn’t it? To prove it, he can say that he had a decent relationship with Thomas Conway before Conway tragically ended up with that bunch.

A rhythmical knocking on his door interrupted his train of thought. He got up from his bed, assuming it was Jemmy. Lord knows that his friend often forgot his keys. So it’s safe to say that he was thoroughly surprised to meet a boy with a face full of freckles, brown hair let down on his shoulders, hazel eyes staring intently into his own.

“Hello, sir,” he said, his voice soft and Thomas could see that he was way too young for college, “my name is Philip Hayler.”

“Hey-a, Philip. How can I help you?” Thomas scratched the back of his neck, arching one elegant eyebrow at the kid.

“I was looking for Mr. Alexander Hamilton. Some man by the name ‘James’ instructed me to try and look for him here. He… he said something about you and Mr. Alexander being in…” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “… _an intimate relationship_ , and that he must be here.”

“Fucking Reynolds, I swear -” Thomas begun, but seeing as this boy is probably still in high school (hell, with the way he looks, Thomas wouldn’t be surprised that he just got out of middle school) he stopped himself from cussing Reynolds further, and sweetly smiled, “Well, Mr. James is full of shit, and if you want to find Hamilton, his dorm is #312, at the very end of this hall, towards the right,” and as if to prove his point, he slightly jerked his head towards the direction of Alexander’s dorm.

“Thank you very much, Mr…?”

“Thomas Jefferson. Call me Thomas, though,” he shook his hands with the kid, and then closed the door, as Philip made his way towards Alexander. It was a mystery to him what does Alex have to do with this boy, but he quickly got it out of his head, going back to his bed, and picking up a copy of ‘Law and order’ that he was reading so far.

*~*

“Philip! How’s it going?” Alexander smiled broadly upon seeing the freckled boy in front of his door, “Found your way easily through the floors? I am so sorry I forgot to let you know of my dorm number.”

“It’s all fine, Mr. Hamilton,” Philip grinned.

“Please, call me Alex.”

*~*

Mostly they spent the day talking about Philip’s plans about his future education. He wanted to go to Princeton, that much was obvious, but Yale was also on his radar. He attended a private school called Chilton, which is a really prestigious institution. His parents were fairly wealthy, therefore he was able to afford college without depending on his grades – which were, of course – very good. He was much like Alexander (besides the obvious, being trans and all). He was smart, outgoing, charming and above all, polite. That much was apparent as well.

Alex walked him through what he can expect in college, based off on his own experience. Philip always kept a notebook to write things down to, even as they came by Dave’s, and the small park nearby. He seemed to soak up information like a sponge, much to Alexander’s amusement.

Philip took a bus home after about two hours after that, seemingly happy with how has his day gone by. Alex too came back to the dorm building with a smile on his face.

With nothing else to do he decided to go visit Thomas.

*~*

“Good evening, Alexander. I see the assassins have failed,” Thomas said with a smirk, looking down at Alex, as he leaned against the doorway wearing a robe and pajama bottoms, sipping what smelled like tea. Leaf water. Disgusting.

Alexander rolled his eyes at him, but a small smile still rested on his lips, “Good evening to you too. I see that you still haven’t died of suffocation, considering your ego seems to take up all the space in the room,” he shot back, though there was no bite behind the insult. He wonders when did their heated fighting grown into playful, dare he say, friendly, banter. It’s new, not entirely unwelcome, and surprisingly easy to think about.

Regardless, Thomas stepped aside, letting him into the room. It was eight o’clock, and both of them were in pajamas. Alexander wore dark blue bottoms with yellow dots, and a matching yellow top with short sleeves. Thomas, meanwhile, looked like a pretentious rich bastard he claims to be, with dark purple bottoms and the said pink robe.

“Do you have anything to drink?” He asked, climbing into Thomas’ bed as if they were best buddies. However, Thomas didn’t object, and Alex wasn’t about to sit on a plastic chair.

“I don’t have coffee, and I’ll give you alcohol over my dead body. We both know what happened last time you got drunk. Or rather, I got drunk,” he took a sip, one eyebrow raised as he glanced at Alexander. And yeah, Alex remembers, though he rather wouldn’t, then mutters something akin to ‘shit, yeah, you’re right.’ Thomas offers, “You can have green tea or orange juice.”

“I’ll take juice, thanks,” he says and Thomas nods, walking over to the kitchenette and pouring him a glass. Alex takes it and chugs it all down in one go, not having realized before how thirsty he was. He didn’t miss the odd way Madison looked at them occasionally from the other side of the room, and frankly, he doesn’t want to question it. The Virginian in question is watching, judging by the sounds, a soap opera on the small TV, completely unbothered that hey, other people reside in here and the walls are ridiculously paper-thin.

He didn’t even register Thomas sitting about a meter away from him, until he felt the mattress shift and cover shuffle as Thomas apparently leaned forward to scratch his foot. Alex shook his head fondly, a little surprised that he didn’t second guess being in bed with Thomas Jefferson, even if they were not doing anything of great significance. It was so casual, so domestic. Ridiculous, if you asked him, how little did it take him to get used on having Thomas around, having him close. Shit, even visiting without letting him know in the middle of the work week is something that even his friends would consider odd. Well, perhaps Laf wouldn’t, because Laf _knows_. Others don’t.

*~*

James pretended to fall asleep about twenty minutes after Hamilton’s arrival. It was insane how oblivious they both were to how loud they actually got. They were watching something on Thomas’ laptop, some kind of romantic comedy (that James knows for a fact Thomas wouldn’t be caught dead watching willingly). As if those sounds coming from the laptop weren’t obnoxiously loud enough, they just kept arguing through it. Ah, there they were. The old Hamilton and Jefferson that the entirety of Princeton knew and… barely tolerated. He couldn't quite figure out what was the argument about, but what he managed to catch was that this girl named Jenna had a kid with a guy name Luke, but it wasn’t actually Luke’s child, they were only married, and this kid – he thinks his name is Jack – is the biological son of a tenth guy called Chase. Thomas thought that Luke should be able to see Jack after the divorce, and Hamilton opposed him. Hamilton thought that, since the child is Chase’s, and since Jenna is now engaged with Chase, even though Chase never played a part in Jake’s upbringing, Luke shouldn’t be able to see him, since the reason that Luke and Jenna got divorced in the first place was that Luke stole some money off her parents’ bank account. Insane, he knows, and totally irrelevant.

Not to Thomas and Hamilton, thought.

They went at it as if their lives depended on it, snarling arguments in each others’ faces, proving points by making vague hand gestures in the air. If you didn’t know them, you’d think they were sworn enemies.

How funny, James thought. They _used to be_.

*~*

“Do you think he’s sleeping?” Alexander asks, glancing towards Madison’s bed.

“I’m sure he is, by now,” Thomas sighs tiredly, putting the computer away.

“What do you mean, ‘by now’?” Alexander asks again, looking up at Thomas, “he was like this since I got here.”

“I know James well enough that he doesn’t make random faces as he sleeps, upon hearing something funny,” Thomas laughs, the sound a deep rumble.

“Oh,” Alex states, “Do you think he’s been listening?”

“Probably.”

A moment passes in silence, “I should go.”

Thomas nods, “As you wish. Let me walk you out, yeah?”

Alex smiles coyly, a tiniest tint of pink coloring his cheeks as they both get up. They get to the door, Thomas holding it open for Alex. Alexander comments how his Southern Gentleman™  is showing, to which Thomas quips back, “Yeah, you’re just fussy ‘cause you can’t resist my southern charm,” Alex nodded plainly, making a huff of laugh in hopes of masking how actually true that statement was.

Maybe it had not been the best decision he’s ever made, but hey, that could very well be a title for any decision he’s ever made. So, before Thomas managed to close the door, he turned around, stood up on his toes and pressed a quick kiss to the taller man’s lips. The kiss itself didn’t last longer than a second or two, not enough time for Thomas to do anything with perhaps his hands. As the matter of fact, it wasn’t enough for Thomas to register what was going on, not enough time to kiss back,  before Alex was turning on his heel and half-sprinting his way to his dorm.

He felt good, great even. There was a bounce to his step that wasn’t there for years. He didn’t bother with thinking about what Thomas might think of this, that he might not like the fact that Alex kissed him.

The same way Alex also didn’t bother to look around, because then he’d see Charles Lee leaving the showers, his eyes trained directly on him and Thomas.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was shorter than usual, but i think it's a fine chapter overall
> 
> <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ex's and oh's
> 
> okay so sorry, but this is another filler chapter (+ a lil drama). i just feel like i need a firm base to continue, and not just say that this and that happened therefore this and that is the result. 
> 
> WARNINGS  
> \- Mentions of drugs & implied drug usage  
> \- Alcohol

As much as care-free Alexander has felt yesterday upon leaving Thomas’ dorm, now he is totally freaking out. The bliss of it has worn down and he doesn’t dare look at Thomas’ texts (which have increased in numbers since yesterday, but suddenly stopped around 2 o’clock) so he kept going about his life as if nothing had happened. The only thing he could not ignore, meanwhile, is the heavy feeling of dread in his chest.

That was why he tried to desperately entertain himself with watching TV, talking to his friends without revealing too much… hell, he even casually slid into Phillip’s DM-s. He’s grown quite fond of the boy, actually. He suspects that, since as far as Alex knows, he’s the only FTM on the campus, Phillip will likely be sharing the dorm with him, if he decides to attend Princeton. It makes him kind of happy.

Despite knowing that the finals week is stalking around the corner, taking into consideration that it’s already May, and against his better judgement, he shortly invited Laurens over, before the freckled man informed him that there’s a rave party tonight.

Now, Alexander has never been the one for loud parties, crowded concerts and rave music in general, but the idea seemed intriguing as of now. Perhaps he should be studying, but he told himself that he probably wouldn’t be awfully productive anyways. Therefore, when 9 p.m. rolled around, he was dressed in black jeans and a white tank, had borrowed some ‘fly bracelets’ from John (and that’s how John had called them); it were three neon ones around his left wrist, a black leather one and a black string one on his right, and finally a black spiked one around his neck. Totally not his style, if you ask him, but John was the expert.

Speaking of, John wore a neon pink ‘Eat, sleep, rave, repeat’ crop-top, denim booty shorts, and fishnet leggings. Also not quite Alex’s style, and he was pretty grateful that he only ended up with the bracelets. Which, of course, John had a plethora of. Thank the Lord almighty that Hercules and Lafayette didn’t know about this; they wouldn’t allow it under any circumstances. And there is probably a lecture-waiting-to-happen after they get back, presumably drunk and high. No that Alex had any intention to abuse any of that… but anything can happen, y’know?

Off note, Alex is ninety percent sure that those leggings are Lafayette’s. Either way, John looked fabulous as ever, and maybe Alex was a little jealous. Just a little.

*~*

He was nervous upon getting up on the bus. The drive itself is supposed to be short, if he was to trust John. Honestly, sometimes he wonders whether he should worry about John and his connections. Allegedly this is being held in an abandoned warehouse, somewhere outside New York, and there’ll be a lot of students from plenty of other colleges. John mentioned it being some dude’s birthday, he doesn’t exactly know. He hasn’t been paying much attention to what John was saying, mainly because his mind was clouded with other questions, ones for which he didn’t have answers.

“- so basically, it’s an all-night party, though we can go home… whenever. How’s that?” John said, looking excitedly as ever. Suddenly a look of concern crossed his face, “Alex? You okay, buddy?”

“Huh? Y-yeah, of course I am,” he smiled lightly, though he wouldn’t hope that it was convincing.

“You were spacing out there, I was just checking,” John smiled and ruffled his hair, making Alex swat his hand away playfully.

*~*

“Johnny, my man!” was the first thing (besides the obnoxiously loud music) they heard upon entering the warehouse. Soon, the saw a tall, dark-skinned man with a buzz-cut and big sunglasses approach them. He was shirtless, and wore what looked like… blue swim trunks? Questionable choice of attire, Alex noted. His chest and face was decorated in glowing neon patterns, and some of it looked as if it was smeared on his sunglasses and fingers. He sported a strikingly familiar five o’clock shadow and… could it be?

“Henry?” Alex questioned, surprise in his voice, and he almost wanted to rub his eyes or pinch himself to convince himself that his eyes had not deceived him, “Henry Knox?”

“Yea, that’s me,” he slurred lazily, glancing down at Alex as he embraced John in a one-arm hug, squeezing him before releasing.

“It’s me – uh, Alexander Hamilton,” Alex grinned, still not entirely sure that this was his old friend. Shit, he changed so much.

Henry also seemed totally taken aback, “Lexi? Holy shit! Man, I haven’t seen you in ages. C’mere,” and Henry proceeded to hug him, so tight that he almost ran out of breath.

“’Lexi’?” John snorted, though Alex could not blame him. It was a pretty ridicolous nickname, “Since when do y’all know each other? Am I missing out?”

“Well, _Rio_ here and I have been roommates in my old orphanage in Boston. Also, only two dudes on the girls’ floor,” Alex couldn’t keep the smile off his face, “And the big brother I never had. And my bodyguard.”

“Rio? You gon’ go that low with me, Lexi?” Henry laughed.

“Yeah, what’s up with ‘Rio’?” John asked.

“Well, Henry had his punk days, and since there isn’t much of a nickname material for Henry -” before Henry could say something, Alex cut him off, “- yeah, save it, I know that you’ve taken that name from your favorite writer and didn’t think it through. But anyways, as I said, in his punk days, he came up with Rio. I guess because Hen _ry_ , and then from that ‘Ry’. Anyways, I always bullied him about it,” Alex winked playfully, and Henry shook his head in the same manner.

“Shit, I guess I’ve been missing out,” John said thoughtfully, and suddenly looking in the distance behind Henry and Alex, “Yo! Greene and Tallmadge, wassup bros?” and two other, also quite tall and muscular dudes covered in neon, approached them. One of them was attractively kissed by the sun, tanned skin for days, pale blonde hair to contrast it. His eyes were hooded, irises brown. God damn, Alex thought, Nathan has changed a lot. Next to him walked a shorter but similarly built man, his skin bronze, eyes big and coffee-brown. His hair was styled in dreadlocks. As the both of them said hi, he could hear the distinct Spanish accent coating his words.   
“Hammy, my guy!” - was only one of the many similar responses he got upon showing up and being recognized. Nathan was very generous with hugging, that much was obvious. They chatted for a while, before his girlfriend – or, as it turns out – girlfriends joined him, and he and Tallmadge strolled away towards the dance floor. He saw two Asian boys, one of which he knew from middle school, by the name of John Hancock. He had no particular opinion of this guy, though he does distinctly remember him being a very creative, art-oriented soul. Much to the dismay of his Asian parents, as you may assume, he was never extraordinarily good in maths, science, chemistry…

He also saw Phillis Wheatley, another poetic soul, a girl he’s had a crush on since first grade, but he did grew out of that fairly quickly. Then there was Jupiter Hammon, her step brother and her polar opposite.

And… was that -

No, it can’t be…

But it was real; two girls whom with he’s fairly familiar with on the dance floor, kissing, completely ignoring the rest of the world around them. The first thought that crossed his mind was how awfully irresponsible was of Maria and Eliza to go out in the middle of the week and in likelihood, get drunk, high or worse – but wasn’t he doing the same thing? As much as he wanted to approach them, the crowd that created on the dance floor became far too big for his tastes. As he looked around himself, he realized that, not only was John gone, so was everybody that he spoke with right now. Well, not completely gone, he could still hear their voices over the loud music, somewhere in the distance. By the sound of ‘yo, pass that joint!’ it was certainly not hard to figure out what were they up to.

With a little desire for getting himself in the middle of colored, sweaty, naked bodies, he opted on withdrawing to the side and getting a drink. Just one, yeah, for the good measure.

And wouldn’t you know it, with his luck, who was sitting at the bar. Hardly recognizable, but one and only, John André. Well, what did he expect, in a place full of his past friends and people he used to know?

What did he do wrong to have his world riddled with his ex’s? He might never know.

However much did he try not to seem obvious to the unfairly gorgeous man sitting beside him, of course John would notice. Even though their relationship was short lasted, and not even because of his leaving to New York – they split on good terms after a year, or something like that.

His skin was still pale, something he used to complain a lot about, Alex recalled fondly. His hair, though, has progressed a lot from that military-looking cut to a full fledged _mane_. It was tied up but not tamed, sticking out from the loose hold of a hair band. Even tied, it reached almost the middle of his back. It was dark brown, and looked beyond soft. He noticed that there were two thick braids resting on the sides of his chest. He had also apparently grown quite a messy scruff. There was nothing _not_ attractive about John, he realized. Fuck.

“Alexander Hamilton, in the flesh, huh?” he began casually after Alex ordered a gin and tonic.

“John. Haven’t seen you in years. How’s life?” he tried to sound chill, and if you ask him, he was doing a damn good job at it. As oppose to eighty percent of the time. Because believe it or not, Alex Hamilton doesn’t have any chill.

“Mhm,” John hummed in agreement, inching closer, a smirk playing on his lips, “Years and now it seems like minutes, doesn’t it?”

“Sure does,” it doesn’t, really. But hey, as if this wasn’t awkward enough, Alexander isn’t about to try and make it even more so. He decided to play along.

“What have you been up to, little man?” he asked, his voice like dripping honey. Jesus Christ, why was Alex like that? Okay, deep breath. One, two, he’s got this.

“College, you know. I’m on my third year.”

“Interesting,” he nodded, taking another sip.   
“What about you?”

“I’ve been working as an auto mechanic for last couple of years, at my adopted-uncle Bobby’s garage. He’s a cool dude, I was thankful that I got the chance to work for him. Though, my life long dream has been medical college, though I suppose some of us aren’t as lucky,” he said it with a clearly bitter undertone, because Alex really did feel sorry for him at the moment. Before he got to say anything, John got up and offered him a hand, “Wanna dance?” He supposes that the two gin and tonics got the best of him, because he didn’t think twice before accepting it, and willingly being pulled to the dance floor, despite his former dislike even for the idea of dancing.

What began as gentle swaying to the left and right, with John’s hands on his hips to guide him, turned into something Alex didn’t know how to name. With each new beat, they were close, and with each new step, it was rougher. The way John pulled onto his hair, or the way Alex pulled onto John’s collar. He felt hot and sweaty and disgusting, and he knew that what he was doing was wrong.

In the corner of his eye, he could see John getting busy with two guys and a girl. He noticed that two of those were Nathaniel and Benedict Arnold (he doesn’t even know where does he know Arnold from) and the girl he didn’t know about. She looked strikingly familiar, though he couldn’t quite tell.

Since everybody seemed to get their freak on around here, he supposed (in his half-drunken state, while scanning for people that carried shots around the floor, yes) that it wouldn’t bee too much of a shame if he does things with John. Because it’s not like he’ll remember anything by the morning, and well, John’s familiar territory.

*~*

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that last night was very much a bad idea. He was in his bed, he doesn’t even know how he got there. God dammit, he doesn’t need people taking care of him so much. It’s not like he’s a baby. He’d pay for them to leave him alone with undoubtedly a killer hangover and possibly a whole day of throwing up.

He didn’t want to open his eyes yet, but the silence in the room, especially knowing that there’ll be at least a dozen people closely watching him, made him antsy. When he fluttered them open, he was surprised that the only person there was Hercules.

He groaned, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Immediately it caught Herc’s attention, “Alex, how are you feeling?” of course, it was the first thing that he asked.

Like shit, echoed in his mind, “Surprisingly fine,” was what he said. He rubbed his eyes, looking around warily.

“Okay. Well, I hope you know that what you and Jacky did yesterday -”

“Was irresponsible, yada yada,” Alex waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

“Yes. I hope you know that Jacky’s been hospitalized,” Hercules’s words came out probably harsher than he intended, but it was, on one hand, completely understandable.

“Wha- is John okay?” his eyes widened.

“He’s had a lot to drink, that’s obvious. He’s also taken a lot of ecstasy and, well, weed. He was found by some dude called Henry in the rave place this morning, after everybody went away, slumped under some stools, covered in spunk. You were brought home by Maria and Eliza. They said they couldn’t find John, and they didn’t wanna stay there longer than it was safe. They said they’ve been told that it becomes quite a fishy place after a certain hour,” Hercules looked more and more pissed off by the second, “I don’t know what happened to John, how did he allow himself into that situation. Aren’t you the voice of reason, Alex? Shouldn’t you be the one telling him it was a bad idea? He has his brain, that’s obvious, but for God’s sake, you know how Jack gets,” his words were practically a growl.

“I do, but I just… I just had to escape for a day. I’ve had a rough week, okay?” He practically hissed, kind of mad at Hercules for blaming this on him.

“Rough week? Alexander, don’t try and sell this shit to me. I know what’s going on with you, or did you forget me you use me as your go-to ‘friend’ for whining about your pathetic existence?” he shouted, standing up, and Alex hadn’t missed the air quotes on ‘friends’. Fuck, he knew he should be sorry but this just makes him so _angry_. Of course he’s sorry about John, he has a sense of empathy, for God’s sake, but it is not, and will never be _his_ fault.

Silence. You could hear a needle drop.

Perhaps the way he stared at Hercules gave it away, maybe it was the fire that finally lit up in his eyes, but he almost spat, “Get out of my dorm, Mulligan.”

“Alex- shit, I went overboard. I didn’t mean it, okay? I’m sorry,” he said, his tone apologetic. You can’t fake that, and Alex knew he never would. Although he liked his newfound temper. Alex of few years ago would crumble and cry, crack under pressure. But he, even though he knew that deep down, Hercules was just worried and, being the mom friend, probably completely lost his mind upon hearing the news, couldn’t just let this slide. He couldn’t…

Yet he did.

“It’s… it’s okay. It’s fine,” he huffed, looking down, placing his hands on his hips.

“It’s not fine, I totally overreacted -”

“Hercules, shut the fuck up, please. I need a moment. My head will explode,” Alex cut him off and Herc nodded, looking defeated as he withdrew from the dorm, leaving the door only an inch ajar. Alex grabbed the aspirin and water on his bedside cabinet, probably also prepared by Herc. He chugged it and ambled over to his closet, picking out fresh clothes and discarding this punk-looking excuse of an outfit off himself.

He had already pulled his pants up, and was just working with getting his shirt over his head, when there was a single knock on the door. He truly didn’t know who may it be, until a very tall man with a very curly hair stepped inside. “Hi – uh – do you want me to wait or -” he gestured at Alexander’s half naked body in the middle of the room. Alex felt blush spread over his cheeks, neck and chest. H quickly pulled it over all the way. His attire only consisted of grey sweats and darker grey, acid-washed shirt. Hell, he didn’t even wear boxers. That was too much work.

“No, I guess it’s fine.”

They stood in silence like that for a moment, looking everywhere but each other. Thomas’ hands were stuck in his pockets, and he scratched the base of his neck absently, playing with one of the small curls there. Alex cringed at how awkward they were, “Do you… wanna seat?”

“No, I just came by to check up on you,” he said, and then for the first time since he got here, made eye contact, “I heard about your yesterday’s stunt, you know,” Alex hummed, “Wasn’t the smartest thing to do.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I also heard that John André was there.”

“So he was.”

“You wouldn’t believe, I also heard that you two did some interesting things on the dance floor. Like, a mutual jack-off round. Sounds familiar?” Suddenly Thomas’ tone was very… very aggressive. He looked very jealous, honestly, and Alex was at first confused as to why. John was his ex, and it’s not like they’re gonna meet ever again. And Thomas and he have nothing going on, which would only leave one option…

Did Thomas maybe return his feelings?

Alexander never got to confirm the theory, since he so wisely never looked at his texts. That was probably a mistake, he saw. “I- well… I don’t have to explain myself to you,” that was the opposite of what he wanted to say, and what he should say, but his God damn stubbornness will get the best of him one day

“You certainly don’t. I just thought that, you know, since you kissed me and all, you might still want to have something. Guess not,” he growled, and was close to turning around, when Alex panicked and leaped forward, catching Thomas by the upper arm. Thomas whipped around and arched an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was doing. I was tired and scared and drunk. I just… my head isn’t in the right place, as of now, and I need… just, time. A day to compose myself.” Thomas nodded, let out something akin to a snarl, and looked ready to leave again, when Alex pulled on his sleeve again, “Wait. I know this might sound dumb, but I didn’t say that I didn’t wanna be near you.”

His face, even though still emotionless, looked a little less stone cold than a moment ago. Small blessings, Alex thought. “Okay. So what do you want me to do?” Thomas asked, Alex dares to say he sounded hopeful.

“Well, for starters, we need to go and see John in the hospital.”

  


  



	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to issue a public apology regarding the last chapter... like wtf was that. a fucking RAVE???????????? okay whatever. i think i will make up for it with this chapter, though. <3
> 
> WARNINGS  
> \- two sappy idiots

Yesterday was a train-wreck. You don’t need to exactly be Sherlock Holmes to figure that one out; a plethora of bad decisions were made on Alexander’s behalf. It wasn’t that Thomas was angry with him or anything, he was just a little… a mixture of surprised and disappointed, both emotions being the result of the little immigrant’s less-than-wise choices of getting wasted on a rave birthday party of his ex friend. All that Thomas knows about that ‘incident’ is from social media. Things spread like a wildfire online, and he suspects it has only taken hours for people across the country to find out what was happening in the district of New York. It was a blessing and a curse, really.

Naturally he was worried about Alexander _and_ John’s well-being. Two scrawny, tiny college students mashed together with (what looked like) not so scrawny college students. Half of guys there (and probably girls too, to be honest) could use Alex like a toothpick.

Of course, he didn’t think that any of them (most of them) would get violent, for God’s sake, upon only seeing Alex, but the smaller man had a hot temper and a sharp tongue, he’d undoubtedly start some kind of a brawl in the middle of the place.

Which is exactly why he spent the entirety of the past evening panicking in Gilbert’s dorm. Along with Hercules. Gilbert seemed chillingly unbothered.

*~*

“ _He will hurt himself!”_

“ _Mon tigre, petit lion isn’t exactly made of glass, non? He can handle being out for a single night, don’t you think?” Gilbert cackled, putting out his cigarette._

“ _He’s a hazard to his own well being, you all know that,” Thomas rubbed his forehead. Hercules hummed in agreement. Off note, Thomas thought, that was probably the only time Hercules ever agreed with him. What a special occasion._

“ _Look, I know more about this party than John does. I was invited in the first place, d'accord?” The Frenchman said, his tone casual, much to Thomas’ dismay, “It’s Henry Knox’s birthday, couple of other friends of Knox’s will be there. And if I’m correct – which I am,” he spared him a glance, “- Alexander is fairly familiar with him.”_

_A heavy silence settled upon the three, Hercules and Thomas exchanging worried glances while Gilbert (who obviously noted it) didn’t say another word about it. He lit another cigarette. Hercules scrunched up his nose, but it wasn’t like he could say anything about it; they were on a balcony of Gilbert’s ridiculously spacious dorm (which was obviously a result of his parents intertwining). Suddenly, he spoke up, “Besides – since when do you care so much about mon petit lion?”_

“ _I -” his voice cracked, and he began fidgeting with his fingers, “I don’t know. I suppose we’ve became close friends as of late,” he murmured, hardly convincing enough. His voice was surprisingly meek, and he didn’t seem like the typical Thomas; the smug, arrogant prick they all knew and loved. To some extent._

*~*

Thomas has let Alexander have the whole day for himself. He didn’t bother him, didn’t text him; since Alex made it abundantly clear that he so wishes. It was fine, though. The only thing he really wanted – needed – to talk about was that surprise kiss, and it seemed to be the topic that Alexander wholeheartedly wanted to avoid. As much as Thomas wished to drop it, he just couldn’t.

Maybe that was why he was standing in front of a large, wooden door, in a hall that reeked of medication and sick people. Everything was white, from the floor, to the walls, to the chairs in the waiting room. It left a bad taste in his mouth, if he’s being honest.

He hesitated to knock, knowing that in likelihood, the whole gang is in there, and he was not John’s best friend. Or a friend, at all. Everybody probably wonder why he was here.

But hey, fuck it. He knocked on the door three times with his knuckles, patiently waiting for a response, which came thankfully quickly.

“Hi,” he said, looking around, but there was nobody inside except for John.

“Jefferson! What gives?” John seemed cheerful, though the boy winced when apparently his own voice was too loud for his head to bare. The hangover is undoubtedly brutal for him.

“I came to check on how you’re going,” Thomas said, sounding more casual than he felt. If John figured it out, he didn’t say anything, and Thomas was thankful for that gesture. _Small blessings_ , crossed his mind.

“Well, as you can see, I’ve never been better,” John said sarcastically though playfully.

“You know what I mean, Laurens,” he sighed.

“My head hurts like a bitch, I barely can feel my left arm, and I feel dizzy a lot,” he admitted, his face instantly dropping. However, if he was being honest, compared to the photos swarming Twitter (unfortunately for John) John was making progress in healing, albeit rather slowly. Thomas nodded and walked up to the bed, one hand stuck in the pocket of his track top, and with other he patted Laurens on the shoulder (gently). Laurens looked at him with an appreciative smile, and then Thomas decided that it was time to leave. He turned around, murmured a quick ‘bye’ to him, and was on his way out.  
“Jefferson -” he heard, and turned around, arching an eyebrow at John, “- if you were looking for Alex, he came by an hour or so ago. I imagine that he stopped by Eliza’s apartment if he’s not in his dorm.”

Thomas nodded, his lip twitching upwards in a small, grateful smile, as he left the room.

Walking down the halls, upon reaching the parking lot, he felt the rain seeping down on his shoulders. Come to think of it, the drizzle and sudden coolness was quite unusual for this time of year.

*~*

“’Liza, what do I do?” Alex whined, like a petulant child he was.

“Talking to him might be a good idea,” the dark-haired girl said pointedly, tilting her head as she washed the dishes in the skin, her back turned towards the small man that sat at the counter with nothing but a glass of milk in his hand, that he played with by pushing it around the smooth surface from one hand to another.

“What if he doesn’t wanna, though?” he wailed. Eliza was half certain he was acting by now, “What if he doesn’t want me? I fucked up”

She recalled the night of getting drunk with Thomas herself, something she hadn’t shared with anybody, and hopefully never will, “I don’t think that’s the case, honey,” before he could protest, she glanced at the clock. Maria should arrive in twenty minutes. Sucks that she didn’t want to deal with the absolute mess that was Alexander Hamilton, “Maria will be here any second now. Go away, Christ, do you _not_ want me to get laid?”

“Damn, I’m sorry,” Alex snorted, “I’ll be on my way,” he said and saw himself out.

*~*

Alexander barely had the time to close the door after himself, when he bumped into a hard surface, face first as he began turning around, “ _Motherfuc_ \- Thomas?” he cringed at the way he said it, and then cringed at his outfit (totally not presentable hoodie and sweats).

“Alex, uh, hey,” he said.

“What were you doing at Eliza’s?” he asked casually, though it sounded more like an interrogation. He cussed in his head, watching Thomas’ reaction. There was no apparent one, which was a good sign. Right?

“I was actually looking for you,” he admitted, biting his bottom lip anxiously, “Uh, John told me that you’ll be here.”

“John? Wait, did you visit John?” he rose his eyebrows, and upon Thomas’ nod, said, “That’s actually very sweet of you.” he couldn’t tell if Thomas had blushed or not, but he did look away, and that was probably only clarification he needed.

“I wanted to talk to you about -”

“- about what happened two days ago,” Alexander finished the sentence, “yeah, I feel like… like we should,” he scratched the back of his head, running his fingers through his hair as he did.

“Can we actually go somewhere less public?” the Virginian suggested, and Alex agreed. The immigrant added, “We could go to my dorm.”

*~*

Thomas drove them back to the campus both being fairly quiet. There was nothing but the heavy rain drops falling on glass to fill in the silence. Alex thought that, this awkwardness between them, was most likely his fault. He could not have panicked and everything would be fine. They’d talk it out, yes, but without 90 percent of the uncomfortable silence. They were dancing around each other again, he could feel it. He’s known the feeling for years now.

As they entered the room, Alex immediately felt the small hairs on the back of his neck bristle. He heard Thomas shut the door closed, and only then he turned around. God, this was nothing like he ever imagined his moment to be. The inevitable dramatic love confession, the cliché ‘I will hold onto you and never let you go’. No. What they had was a dark, cold empty room and soaked clothes. Not to mention the tension between them so palpable you could slice through it with a knife.

After long, long moments of silence, what seemed to be decades, Thomas spoke up. He grabbed Alex’s attention by trying to speak, but his throat seemed to raspy, he could barely make the words come out. Finally, as he cleared his throat, he said plainly, “I literally think I’m in love with you.”

*~*

Thomas was breathing deeply, still not quite managing to digest what he just blurted out. But it was the naked truth, so he decided he may as well have Alexander do what he pleases with it. To his surprise, Alexander said…

Nothing.

Not a word has left the mouth of a man who thrives of speaking, not a syllable from a man who wields with words both as his shield and sword.

Seconds as if turned to minutes, minutes to hours, hours to days, days to weeks, to months, years, decades, centuries – and then finally. He short man said, “That’s good to hear. Because I feel the same,” his face was expressionless.

Meanwhile Thomas stood there like a bloody idiot, mouth opening then closing again. Alexander stared at him, brown eyes wide and consuming him. He took a single step towards Alexander, to check where he stood. Alex looked expectant as ever, as prompting Thomas to come closer. He did, with agonizingly slow steps. First, he rested his hands both on Alexander’s shoulders, their faces inches apart. And then…

Well, he brought his head closer.

He closed the distance between the two of them, tipping Alex’s head up with his fingers, Alex having to stand on his toes as Thomas cupped his face with one hand hand, pulling him up gently for a kiss. It took Alexander by surprise, but he kissed back, his lips stiff at first but softened against Thomas’ own. His hands found their way around his waist, slightly pulling Alexander closer. Alexander’s fingers found their way to his hair, tugging lightly on the soft curls. The kiss wasn’t exceptionally heated, at last, they were both threading on a new territory. Well, a familiar territory, but with years passed, it was as if it should be explored again.

And explore they did.

*~*

_**March 12, 2014.** _

_Just once. Just once I want to matter. I want to matter to the person that matters to me. I want to be important. I want to be longed for, treasured. I doesn’t want to hear, “She isn’t worth it.” I want to be worth it. I want to fight for something. I want to fight for it, finally find out what’s it like to win, and see just how worth it was in the end. No one around here seems to want me. No one seems to think that I’m worth it. Just once, I’d like to be worth it. I want somebody to fight just as hard for me as I fight for them._

_It’s been two years, Tommy._

*~*

It wasn’t until later that week did they make their relationship public. Reynolds, of course, just spat at him that he knew it, and Lee – well, surprisingly, he smiled and said ‘I knew you two would work it out’ which was… odd, admittedly. It’s not like he saw what was happening between them. But it’s whatever. He’ll take any good word he can from Lee. Eliza… she didn’t seem surprised. Come to think of it, nor did Gilbert and John. Hercules was genuinely happy, and Maria only winked at him. Benny Franklin shouted the news as he ran through the halls of the dorm building, across the campus and where not. “Frankly _n_ , it’s ridiculous,” Gilbert said, Thomas muttered ‘get out’ and Angelica snorted, as they walked behind him.

*~*

_**April 11, 2012.** _

_She always seemed too good for me, and it had nothing to do with the way she looked. She always put three sugars in her coffee because she couldn’t stand the bitter taste alone, and smelled like lavender, because once she read somewhere that lavender made people happier, and she loved seeming others around her smile. She laughed so hard during funny movies that tears would come to her eyes, and she cried so hard during sad movies that tears would last longer than the end credits. I never understood how someone who brought cookies to her friends in school to make them feel better and brighten their day, hate herself so much, but she did, quite passionately so. The only person I ever heard say a single bad thing about her… was her. She didn’t like her round face, she didn’t like her long hair. She didn’t like to wear skirts that were a part of the school uniform, she despised P.E. She hated her short statue and petit frame._

_I wanted to try and get her to see what I saw, that she was lovely, amazing, and utterly intimidating, in a good way. But that always ended up in the string of self-insults, so I just… I just held her hand. You gotta do that for the people you love, right? Let them fight their own battles, even if them being helpless breaks your hear in two._

_You don’t even know how much you mean to me already, do you Alex?_

*~*

It’s been… maybe three days since- since _then_. Needless to say, they became inseparable. Alexander realized how much he missed this over the years. How much memories could not fill in the void that remained after he left. But not to dwell in the past – that never did anyone any good.

They sat in silence, watching Jurassic Park. Alexander was nested between Thomas’ spread legs, both of them feeling hot, given the sudden heat wave, but nevertheless unwilling to split. It’s been way too long. Thomas reached for the bowl of popcorn that was situated in Alexander’s lap. The smaller man muttered, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, darlin’.” _Hm_ , Alex thought. _Darlin'. He hasn't heard that one in a while. He misses it._

Alex snorted to himself silently, though Thomas didn’t seem to notice, “Can I call you Tommy again?” he asked. Thomas wrinkled his nose.

“I’d prefer if you wouldn’t, doll.”

“Okay, Tommy,” Alex tipped his head up, and Thomas locked their lips into a short kiss. Alexander smirked into it, and Thomas grinned devilishly, “You’re lucky I put up with you,” the Virginian had said. After one more short kiss, he removed the popcorn and pinned Alexander onto the bed by the wrists, stalking above him. Alexander’s eyes glimmered in anticipation, as Thomas’s mouth captured his own into a more rough kiss, trailing down his jaw and neck. Alex whimpered as Thomas occasionally nibbled onto the skin, sucked or lightly bit. Alex knew that the smug rascal is leaving kisses just where a shirt won’t cover them, yet they are too much on the side for his hair to reach as well. “Territorial bastard,” he muttered, to which Thomas shot back, ‘You love it’. And Alexander knew that he was right, but he won’t give him the satisfaction. Therefore, he used all his strength to catch Thomas off guard and flip them over, so that he was straddling him, wrists above his head held by Alexander’s hands in the similar fashion. Thomas smirked lopsidedly, and it was a challenge if Alexander has ever seen one.  


*~*

One was a walking catastrophe, while the other was a quiescent calamity.  
They break everything they touch, including each other. Others used to say that  
they were one another’s worst nightmare; now, they say they’re each other’s  
bittersweet daydream.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's still an epilogue in making. im not done with this yet
> 
> <3 to all the people who comment. you guys seriously make my day whenever i see a new one pop in my inbox.


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they can finally be happy. very short but very cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow
> 
> we've come to an end

It was a beyond nice day. Early summer, and the weather was perfect. It was warm, but not too hot, and the occasional breeze was very welcome, just to refresh anyone who found themselves outside at this time in the afternoon; much like Thomas and Alexander. The years have caught up with the two. Their children, Jacqueline and Jeremiah, are already so grown up. Jacky has graduated college two years ago, and is already three months pregnant with her second child. She’s a lawyer too, just like her wife. If Alexander is correct, they met in college, just like him and Thomas. Jerry is on his second year at Princeton. How the time flies.

They half-laid in a bench-swing on the porch of their house. Thomas was dozing off, snoring softly. Alexander was tired but still awake, head resting on Thomas’ chest, one hand draped over it, and one leg curled under himself while the other just barely touched the floor, trying with all his might to keep the swing moving, even ever so slightly. He huffed every time the swing came dangerously close to a stop and he had to additionally stretch his leg, afraid not to wake Thomas up.

Suddenly he heard a small snort, and looked up at the other man’s face. His eyes were still closed but his features morphed into a small smile, little wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. Alexander punched him in the shoulder, “You jackass!” he said, jokingly hurt. Thomas’s eyes opened and he was laughing. Alex could never really get sick of it, the deep rumbling sound from his chest, one that would crack a little with each year passed. It was warm and hearty, making him fall in love with the man a little more every time he heard it. It would fill the otherwise empty rooms of their home, or would be carried away by the wind should they be gardening.

Thomas laughed until his ribs would hurt, and then he’d cough and slowly calm down. He looked at Alexander with the most loving expression Alex saw in years, even on Thomas’ face. He nuzzled into the crook of his neck, planting a few kisses there. He then looked at his face as he laid his head on his shoulder. Thomas’ skin was a little dry, occasionally there would be a wrinkle. A few of his black curls has gone gray, and his neatly trimmed and constant five o’clock shadow turned into a slightly messy scruff. Probably the only thing that hadn’t changed were his eyes, warm, lively and vibrant, reflecting his formerly younger self. Alexander would never forget those eyes as long as he lived.

Tragically, the moment was interrupted by a honk of a red Prius parking down in their driveway. Two women and a little boy got out of it, and Alexander could recognize his family from a mile away. He smiled, and felt Thomas doing the same. The little boy, by the name of Patrick, climbed up the porch and jumped into Alexander’s lap, hugging him tightly around the neck, chanting out “Grandpa!” Thomas ruffled the boy’s bright brown locks.

“Dad, pops,” Jacqueline smiled, giving them both one-arm hugs, “How have you been?”

“Good enough, wouldn’t you say, sweetheart?” Thomas kissed Alexander’s temple, “Shall we go back, to the garden? It’s much more spacious.” Thomas commented.

“But first, Thomas, you forgot to address this wonderful young lady!” Alexander scolded his husband, gesturing at the shorter, blond-haired woman besides Jacky. Her face was riddled with tiny freckles, and her eyes were as blue as the sea. She and Jacky made quite a pair.

“Of course, love, I’m sorry. Where are my southern manners?” Thomas got up and shook her hand. He heard Alexander murmur ‘I haven’t seen those in a while’ but he didn’t have time to pay attention to his oh-so-charming partner, “Name’s Thomas Jefferson-Hamilton. This is my husband dearest, Alexander Hamilton.”

“Pleased to finally meet you, sirs. My name is Abigail Adams,” she said, a wide smile on her face.

The four made their way around the house, Alexander handling Patrick all the way. He sat the boy besides himself once they reached the old picnic bench, though that was short lasted, as he jumped down and ran towards the flower garden immediately. Abigail laughed fondly.

They mostly spent the time talking about their lives. How are Thomas and Alexander doing, when’s Jerry coming to visit and alike. Meanwhile Alexander had a lot of questions about her and Abigail. What he had known prior to this was that Jacky and Abigail were best friends since freshman year in college, then gotten drunk on once occasion in Vegas, and that they got married there. Since apparently neither of them minded being married, they acted accordingly. It didn’t matter that they were never officially in a relationship, that there was no dramatic love confessions (you know Alexander is a sucker for those) but, oddly… it all worked out. Next thing you know, they’re having children and even considering making both of their names ‘Adams-Hamilton’, like little Patrick’s.

Surprisingly enough, Jerry came by with his girlfriend, without even saying that he’s coming. He found himself near their neighborhood and thought to drop by. And wouldn’t you know it, they had an unplanned family gathering. Jerry’s girlfriend, Phillis Wheatley, is a lot like Alexander – a true poet in heart, who looks at the world full of hope to make it a better place, make an impact, leave a legacy.

Jacky, Abigail, Jerry and Phillis all went away by nine o’clock, the girls to their home and their son and his girlfriend to their campus. All in all, it was a great day.

*~*

“Night, Alexander,” Thomas murmured, turning around towards the window, thus turning his back to Alexander.

Apparently, Alexander wasn’t buying it. He pressed himself against Thomas’ wrapping his hands around his middle.

“Alex… come on, darlin’, it’s hot like in the devil’s armpit in the seventh circle of hell,” Thomas groaned. Alexander snorted at that; his lover always had his way with words.

“But Thoooomas,” he wailed, “you don’t cuddle with me anymore. What happened to that, huh? I’m not small and cute like I used to be?”

Thomas abruptly turned around, kissing Alexander roughly on the lips, “Nonsense, love,” he said, and despite himself, “you’ll always be small. Cute, though – that’s debatable.”

Alexander punched Thomas in the shoulder, though laughed despite himself. He suddenly slipped his hand into Thomas’ open palm between them. Thomas, if he registered it, didn’t say anything. They fell asleep like that, and Alexander was happy. Happy with holding Thomas’ hand, happy with his life, happy with his kids and grandson. Who knew that Alexander Hamilton’s life could have taken a turn for the better in the future. Sometimes, he wishes he could go back in time and look at the his 20 year old self, pull him up from where he’s fallen to his knees, and tell him that everything will be okay. Other times, he knows that, even though college may not have been the best era of his life, it has arguably shaped him into the person who he is today. Smart, persistent, annoying, caring, thick-skinned immigrant who conquered his insecurities, his fears and proved wrong everybody who tried to put him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, i want to thank all of you who read, commented, kudo-ed and moreover enjoyed this story. it has been a whild ride, really. not my first book in life, but arguably the best one i've written (in my humble opinion). from the writing style itself (which is, dont get me wrong, far, far from perfect) to the idea and the concept that, i'm kind of proud to say, i came up entirely on my own. this is the first time i ever wrote something without a prompt and posted it, so yeah, i'd say im getting better at this whole author thing.
> 
> i love all of you <3 bye, until the next one!

**Author's Note:**

> For future reference: all information I have on trans* people I get either from the internet or my good friendo @ollie.raviolli, who is trans himself. HOWEVER if you do see me make a mistake or represent something wrong, please, please let me know!!
> 
> I will be updating either daily or every other day. Honestly, it depends on my sleeping schedule. It will never take me longer than 3 days to update, so if you don't get another chapter in a week or something like that, consider me dead.


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